MARIE    EARNESTINE, 


RUTH  AND  MARIE 


A  FASCINATING  STORY 


OF  THE 


NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


BY  EMMA  POW   BAUDER 


ILLUSTRATED. 


Copyright  by 
LINCOLN  W.  WALTER, 

1895 


ps  10-7 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  AUTHOR'S  LIFE. 

Rev.  Emma  Pow  Bander,  a  native  of  Michigan,  was 
born  in  the  year  1848.  Early  in  life  she  conceived  a 
desire  to  do  something  for  the  betterment  of  society  and 
bring  about  a  higher  state  of  civilization.  In  order  to 
undertake  so  great  a  work  she  studied  human  nature  in 
all  its  phases,  laboring  amid  the  vice  and  poverty  in  the 
larger  cities  of  America  as  well  as  among  the  better 
classes.  She  spent  months  laboring  in  the  slums  of  San 
Francisco  that  she  might  by  actual  experience  solve  the 
problem  that  had  for  so  many  years  claimed  her  closest 
attention.  Like  as  Solomon  gave  himself  to  know 
wisdom,  so  this  zealous  worker  has  given  herself  to  mis 
sionary  work,  laboring  that  she  might,  if  possible,  dis 
cover  the  secret  or  hidden  source  of  discontent.  She 
established  a  mission  and  made  herself  acquainted  with  all 
phases  of  life.  She  believes  that  the  lower  classes  are 
their  own  worst  enemies,  and  that  it  is  ignorance  and 
vice  that  have  put  them  in  bondage,  and  not  the  oppres 
sion  of  the  better  class  of  society.  She  writes  this  book, 
entitled  "Ruth  and  Marie;  a  Story  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century,"  with  the  hope  that  it  will  awaken  a  more  lively 
interest  on  the  part  of  the  people  to  the  fact  of  the  rapidly 
increasing  difficulties  that  are  now  agitating  the  minds 
of  American  citizens  and  if  possible  suggest  a  remedy 
for  the  troubled  nation.  We  will  say  for  the  benefit  of 
our  readers  that  the  story,  though  a  work  of  fiction,  is 
clothed  with  living  facts  which  have  been  drawn  from 
actual  experience.  Believing  it  will  set  the  ball  rolling 
and  accomplish  untold  good,  we  are, 
Very  sincerely, 

THE  PUBLISHERS. 


M559407 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

—Page — 

Ohapter  I.— Ruth  Mansfield 1  to      8 

Chapter  II.— The  First  Day  of  Service 11  to    19 

Chapter  III.— The  Modern  Social  Ogre 21  to    32 

Chapter  IV.— Ruth's  Refusal  to  Serve  Wine 35  to    40 

Chapter  V. — En  Route  to  Europe 43  to    50 

Chapter  VI. — Ruth's  First  Lesson  in  Pneumatol- 

ogy 51  to     59 

Chapter  VII.— In  Deutchland 61  to    72 

Chapter  VIII.— The   London   Working  People   in 

Line 73  to    91 

Chapter  IX.— The  Funeral  of  Judge  Earnestine..  93  to  102 
Chapter  X. — Ruth's  Justification  of  the  People...  105  to  113 

Chapter  XI. — Marie's  Confession 115  to  120 

Chapter  XII.— The  Great  Problem 123  to  132 

Chapter  XIII.— Following  After  Fate 135  to  139 

Chapter  XIV.— At  the  Wedding 141  to  146 

Chapter  XV.— In  Legal  Fetters .149  to  161 

Chapter  XVI.— Playing  a  Double  Part 163  to  172 

Chapter  XVII.— Spilling  the  Wine  at  Ranch  Ear 
nestine 175  to  184 

Chapter  XVIII.— Marie's  Vow  to  Heaven 187  to  190 

Chapter  XIX,— Doings  at  the  Mansion. 193  to  197 

Chapter  XX.— Sins  of  the  Father  Transmitted  to 

the  Child 199  to  208 

Chapter  XXI.— Falsely  Accused 211  to  219 

Chapter  XXII.— The  Rum  Fiend 221  to  227 

Chapter  XXIII.— Her  Fortune  Spent 229  to  239 

Chapter  XXIV.— From  Mansion  to  Cottage 241  to  245 


— Page — 

Chapter  XXV.— Duplicating    the    Labor    Depart 
ment .' 247  to  254 

Chapter  XXVI.— Poor  Little  June  Bug 257  to  263 

Chapter  XXVIL— Finding  Her  Mission 265  to  269 

Chapter  XXVIII.— A  Woman's  Methods 271  to  278 

Chapter  XXIX.— The  Working  Woman's  Congress.  281  to  290 

Chapter  XXX. — President  Brumblebug 293  to  301 

Chapter  XXXI.— The  Science  of  Government 303  to  312 

Chapter  XXXII.— Robbing  a  Bread  Winner 315  to  323 

Chapter  XXXIII.— Sorrows  Sanctified 325  to  332 

Chapter  XXXIV.— The  Drunkard  Redeemed 335  to  341 

Chapter  XXXV. — Looking  into  the  Future 343  to  349 

Chapter  XXXVI.— Woman's  Ministry 351  to  354 

Chapter  XXXVII.— Waiting  on  the  Watch  Tower. 357  to  363 


RUTH'S    GIRLHOOD    LIFE. 


RUTH  AND  MARIE, 


OR 


A  STORY  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY, 


CHAPTER  I. 

RUTH  MANSFIELD. 

The  El  Capitan  had  just  left  the  Oakland  Mole  and 
was  steaming  out  into  the  bay,  bound  for  San  Francisco, 
when  two  superb-looking  youpg  women  could  have  been 
seen  to  saunter  across  the  deck  and  take  seats  at  the  stem 
end  of  the  boat,  quite  apart  from  the  many  passengers, 
whose  respectful  glances  lingered  with  admiration  as  they 
recognized  these  two  distinguished  young  ladies. 

Resuming  their  conversation,  which  had  been  inter 
rupted  when  the  masses  arose  and  came  on  board  the 
boat,  Ruth  Mansfield  is  heard  to  say:  'The  labor  ques 
tion  is  becoming  one  of  momentous  interest  to  the  citizens 
of  the  United  States,  and  I  fear  that  unless  some  higher 
and  nobler  influence  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
working  classes  we  shall  see  perilous  times  in  our  larger 
cities  in  the  next  few  years.  The  workingmen  of  this 
country  have  long  been  fanning  into  a  flame  the  spirit  of 
resistance  against  Capital  and  these  organized  bodies 
are  to-day  a  menace  to  civil  government,  and  according 
to  my  way  of  thinking  it  is  high  time  that  the  better  classes 
of  society  are  awakening  to  the  dangers  that  threaten  thc- 
American  Republic," 


2  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Thrusting  the  morning's  paper  into  her  companion's 
hand,  she  continued:  "Read,  and  you  will  see  that  these 
workingmen,  honest,  noble  fellows  that  they  are,  are  beat 
ing  against  the  bars  that  their  own  misguided  resistance 
to  capital  has  welded  about  them,  and  their  very  effort 
means  rebellion." 

Then  in  an  undertone  she  continued:  "Listen,  and 
you  can  hear,  even  as  I  do,  the  low  mutterings  of  thunder 
and  see  the  flashing  of  rebellious  lightning  as  public  senti 
ment  is  being  kindled  for  and  against  the  labor  reform. 
Yes,  my  lady,  from  the  very  fact  that  you  are  a  capitalist, 
you  should  acquaint  yourself  with  the  movement  of  labor 
organizations  and  become  familiar  with  both  sides  of  the 
question  that  is  so  deeply  agitating  the  minds  of  the 
American  people.  When  clouds  hover  low  we  may  know 
that  a  storm  is  approaching  and  the  signs  of  the  times 
should  prompt  every  earnest-hearted  person  to  be  up 
and  doing." 

In  response  to  this  outburst  of  enthusiasm  Marie 
Earnestine  moved  uncomfortably  in  her  seat  and  said: 
"Dear  Ruth,  why  do  you  so  incessantly  trouble  me  with 
your  chatter  about  capital  and  labor?  I  am  growing 
weary  with  such  scarecrows  as  you  present  to  me.  Do 
let  us  talk  about  something  with  poetry  in  it,  I  am  tired 
of  this  threadbare  subject — the  rich  and  the  starving  poor. 
Surely  if  the  working  people  are  in  trouble  with  capital 
it  must  be  that  the  fault  lies  in  themselves  and  not  in  their 
employers.  But  to  change  the  subject,  I  am  growing 
chilly  in  this  bracing  atmosphere;  you  may  put  my  wrap 
about  me.  Perhaps  if  I  give  you  something  to  do,  it  will 
dampen  your  ardor  somewhat  pertaining  to  the  labor 
reform." 

Ruth  Mansfield  drew  herself  up  to  full  height,  her  bril 
liant  dark  eyes  flashing  for  a  moment  with  indignation, 


RUTH  MANSFIELD.  3 

and  then  moistening  witli  tears,  she  replied:  "Scare 
crows!  Indeed,  the  time  will  come,  and  if  I  mistake  not  is 
near  at  hand,  when  you  will  know  that  there  is  more 
sound  sense  in  what  I  am  saying  than  you  can  now  well 
comprehend.  Time  will  make  you,  even  as  it  has  made 
me,  willing  to  discuss  the  wrongs  of  the  working  people 
as  well  as  the  rights  of  Capital." 

While  Ruth  was  thus  speaking  she  took  the  wrap  which 
was  carried  upon  her  arm  and  wound  it  comfortably 
about  her  companion.  It  is  not  hard  for  the  reader  to 
perceive  that  the  two  characters  were  mistress  and  maid. 

Marie  Earnestine  was  one  upon  whom  fortune  had 
smiled,  and  with  the  consciousness  that  she  was  heiress 
to  ten  million  dollars  she  laid  back  upon  the  world  with 
that  spirit  of  oppression  which  is  common  to  capitalists. 
She  had  just  rounded  her  twenty-third  birthday,  and 
from  a  social  point  of  view  was  of  great  importance  in 
the  world.  Nature  had  done  much  for  Marie  Earnestine. 
But  indolent  habits  had  left  her  powers  undeveloped,  and 
at  the  age  of  twenty-three  she  was  neither  talented  nor 
pretty,  nor  yet  was  she  plain.  Being  small  of  stature, 
with  a  pale,  expressionless  face,  her  brilliancy  was  in  her 
diamonds;  and  the  rouge  upon  her  cheek  was  there  in 
stead  of  the  healthful  glow  that  might  have  been  hers 
had  she  taken  the  proper  exercise. 

Her  maid,  Ruth  Mansfield,  on  the  contrary,  was  spark 
ling  with  youth  and  beauty.  She  was  a  tall,  well-devel 
oped  woman  of  twenty-five,  with  merry,  laughing  black 
eyes  and  a  dark,  oval  cheek.  She  was  far  more  beautiful 
than  those  adorned  with  cosmetics.  Her  very  soul  shone 
out  of  her  face  and  bespoke  a  fine  intelligence  and  gentle 
birth.  Marie,  spoiled  from  babyhood,  resented  this  out 
burst  on  the  part  of  her  maid;  but  being  deficient  in  dig 
nity,  failed  to  challenge  that  respectful  obedience  which 


4  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

she  desired.  She  turned,  like  a  naughty  child,  her  back 
upon  Ruth,  who,  accustomed  to  such  freaks  in  Miss 
Earnestine,  did  not  appear  in  the  last  discomfited,  but  on 
the  contrary  was  soon  lost  to  her  surroundings  in  the 
perusal  of  "'Ely  Strong's  Political  Economy." 

Ruth  was  the  only  daughter  of  General  Mansfield.  She 
was  born  in  her  father's  palatial  residence  on  the  sunny 
banks  of  the  Hudson  and  was  reared  under  the  happy 
environments  of  a  cultured  home.  Being  an  only  child, 
the  son  having  died  when  a  boy,  she  had  naturally  re 
ceived  all  the  advantages  possible  up  to  her  fifteenth  year, 
when  fortune's  wheel  turned  backward  and  she  found 
herself  obliged  to  begin  a  battle  with  the  world  for  exist 
ence.  Her  father,  once  noble  and  revered  by  all  who 
knew  him,  had  fallen  into  intemperate  habits  and  had 
bartered  away  his  princely  fortune,  leaving  herself  and 
devoted  mother  in  a  beggared  condition.  Under  the 
heavy  load  that  had  come  like  a  crash  upon  her,  the  gentle 
woman  had  sickened  and  died,  leaving  their  child  to  the 
care  of  a  pitiless  father,  who  now  was  lost  in  the  depths 
of  drunkenness.  A  few  months  of  shame  and  he,  too, 
had  come  to  an  untimely  grave,  leaving  poor  Ruth,  a 
mere  child  in  years,  to  fight  the  battles  of  life  alone. 

Having  a  distant  relative  in  California,  the  girl  scraped 
together  what  little  she  could,  sufficient  to  buy  her  ticket, 
and  came  directly  to  San  Francisco,  with  the  hope  that 
she  might  continue  her  studies  in  some  of  the  excellent 
schools  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  But  in  this  she  was  mis 
taken;  she  saw  the  social  line  drawn  and  found  herself 
in  the  undercurrent.  She  had  never  before  realized  the 
fact  that  the  children  of  the  rich  and  the  children  of  the 
poor  could  not  walk  in  the  same  educational  circles  to 
gether.  Upon  her  arrival  in  San  Francisco  she  was 
awakened  to  the  truth.  Finding  her  relatives  too  poor 


RUTH  MANSFIELD.  5 

to  help  her,  it  became  her  duty  to  seek  employment  for 
her  own  maintenance.  It  was  with  bitterness  of  heart 
that  she  answered  the  advertisement  of  Marie  Earnestine 
for  waiting  maid  ten  years  before.  Then  she  had  asked 
herself,  as  she  had  mounted  the  marble  steps  and  pulled 
the  silver  knob,  why  this  girl,  who  was  no  better  than 
she,  could,  in  addition  to  all  her  other  blessings  in  life, 
afford  to  keep  a  maid  to  wait  upon  her,  while  she,  through 
no  sin  of  her  own,  must  forego  an  education.  Her  fists 
were  clenched  tightly  and  her  spirit  burned  with  hot  indig 
nation  as  she  thought  of  the  injustice.  As  she  stood 
awaiting  an  answer  to  her  summons,  she  began  to  look 
beyond  the  home  to  find  where  the  oppression  began 
and  who  to  blame  in  this  land  of  free  people.  As  she 
reached  out  in  spirit  to  find  who  should  be  her  natural 
protectors,  she  questioned:  "Am  I  net  an  American? 
And  is  not  Uncle  Sam  rich  and  able  to  shield,  educate 
and  protect  the  little  ones  of  his  country?  Am  I  to  blame 
because  my  father  was  a  drunkard  and  broke  my  sainted 
mother's  heart?  Was  it  not  rum  that  robbed  me  of  home 
and  protection,  while  Uncle  Sam  has  gone  into  partner 
ship  with  the  liquor  traffic?  Surely,  if  he  had  prohibited 
the  traffic,  which  is  a  curse  to  our  country,  I  would  be 
happy  in  school  to-day  " 

She  stamped  her  foot  with  a  fierce  spirit  of  resentment, 
her  eyes  were  flashing  with  excitement,  when  the  door 
opened  and  she  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  sick 
ly  looking  and  inanimate  little  girl,  Marie  Earnestine, 
who  was  then  but  a  child  of  thirteen. 

Answering  the  many  questions  that  were  propounded 
to  her  by  the  maiden  aunt  of  Marie  (for  her  mother  haa 
been  for  some  years  deceased),  she  seemed  to  be  a  satis 
factory  applicant. 

Besides,  Marie  had  said:     "You  see,  auntie,  she  io  a 


6  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

brunette,  while  I  am  a  blonde,  and  as  we  must  naturally 
be  together  a  great  deal,  her  beauty  will  only  help  to 
enhance  my  own,  and  I  shall  not  have  to  suffer  the  mor 
tification  that  my  poor  friend  Bella  Downs  does  because 
her  companion  is  of  her  same  type  of  beauty,  only  so 
much  handsomer  than  herself  that  it  quite  takes  away  all 
her  own  charms." 

This  was  a  new  thought  to  Ruth,  for,  being  trained  as 
she  had  been  by  a  Christian  mother,  she  had  never  once 
thought  whether  she  were  beautiful  or  not;  and  to  hear 
this  child,  even  younger  in  years  than  herself,  expressing 
such  vain  sentiments,  gave  birth  in  her  heart  to  a  feeling 
akin  to  contempt.  But  she  thought  of  her  condition, 
and  knowing  that  she  must  work  to  earn  her  bread,  she 
at  once  accepted  the  situation  and  engaged  to  come  on 
the  morrow.  Be  it  said  to  the  *credit  of  Ruth  Mansfield, 
she  had  not  once  paused  to  think  that  there  could  be  any 
degradation  in  labor;  and  in  accepting  this  situation  as 
waiting  maid  to  the  daughter  of  a  millionaire,  she  felt 
it  most  praiseworthy  in  herself  to  be  able  at  this  early 
period  of  her  life  to  take  such  a  charge. 

It  was  the  thought  that  she  must  forego  an  education 
because  poverty's  keenest  edge  had  cut  the  support  from 
beneath  her  feet  that  seasoned  her  cup  with  bitterness 
and  sent  her  young  soul  out  in  quest  of  justice.  It  is 
very  true  that  every  reform  that  ever  came  to  bless  the 
world  has  come  up  and  out  from  under  some  dark  cloud 
of  oppression. 

It  was  a  gloomy  day  on  the  morning  of  the  creation, 
when  the  earth  planet  hung-  in  darkness  in  the  Heavens 
groaning  under  the  weight  of  oppression  of  other  Heav 
enly  bodies.  But  God  spoke  and  said:  "Let  there  be 
light!"  And  behold,  the  bonds  of  oppression  were  burst 
asunder,  the  earth  blazed  forth  transcendent  in  the  glory 


RUTH   MANSFIELD.  7 

of  Him  who  shines  as  "light  of  the  world."  It  was  a 
dark  day  when  the  children  of  Israel  groaned  in  bitter 
ness  under  the  yoke  of  Egyptian  bondage;  but  if  that 
yoke  had  been  less  hard  to  wear,  Israel  would  have  re 
mained  content  in  Egypt.  Out  of  that  bondage  came  the 
redemption  of  God's  people,  born  in  the  form  of  a 
Messiah.  Out  from  under  the  rod  Israel  came  forth  in 
great  power.  Just  so  with  all  other  reforms  of  the  world. 

It  was  a  dark  day  when  our  Pilgrim  Fathers,  who 
couldn't  find  rest  for  the  soles  of  their  feet  in  the  Old 
World  and  could  not  worship  God  according  to  the  dic 
tates  of  their  own  consciences,  sailed  from  their  native 
land.  But  out  of  that  day  of  darkness  came  America — 
a  great  and  gifted  nation,  "the  land  of  the  free  and  the 
home  of  the  brave" — the  land  where  Labor  shall  yet  be 
crowned  and  the  laborer  be  free  indeed. 

It  was  a  dark  day  when  the  chains  of  the  African  slave 
clanked  at  his  heels;  but  out  from  under  the  lash  of  a 
cruel  master,  freemen  have  been  born  with  hearts  as  true 
and  tender  as  any  child  of  God. 

It  is  now  a  dark  day  for  labor  in  America,  smitten  as  it 
is,  yet  in  God's  own  time  the  clouds  will  vanish  and  a  great 
and  noble  people  shall  come  forth  bearing  aloft  the  ban 
ner  of  triumph. 

Just  so  now  it  was  with  Ruth.  The  Lord  who  has  led 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  the  Lord  who  has  led  in  all 
reforms  and  created  all  reformers,  knew  the  process  of 
preparing  a  soul  for  the  warfare  that  is  now  be:ng  waged 
between  Labor  and  Capital. 

This  experience  through  which  she  was  now  railed  to 
pass  was  well  and  truly  born  of  God,  for  had  Ruth  Mans 
field  remained  through  life  in  the  same  easy  circumstances 
iin  which  she  was  born,  she  could  never  have  developed 
into  the  noble  character  which  she  was  destined  to  be. 


8  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Thus,  while  her  spirit  was  being  chiseled  and  carved  to 
fit  her  to  become  a  master  workman  in  the  art  of  reform, 
she  began  to  look  away  from  self  and  realize  that  she 
was  only  one  of  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
working  girls  in  America  who  were  at  this  very  time 
without  a  finished  education.  As  she  walked  away  that 
morning  from  the  palatial  residence  of  the  Earnestines, 
which  was  to  be  her  home  for  the  next  few  years,  she 
was  forming  new  resolves  and  trying  to  set  her  thoughts 
in  order  that  she  might  charge  down  upon  the  enemy 
and  work  for  all  mankind.  Blessed  girl,  with  Heaven- 
born  desires!  Who  shall  say  that  the  angels  of  God  did 
not  smile  upon  her  and  lend  promptings  from  above  as 
she  was  about  to  enter  a  life's  career? 


JUDGE  EARNESTINE  AT  FORTY. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SERVICE. 

The  sun  rose  brightly  over  San  Francisco  on  the  morn 
ing  that  Ruth  Mansfield  was  to  meet  her  engagement 
at  the  Earnestine  mansion,  and  as  she  stood  at  the  door 
of  her  friend's  saying  farewell,  the  following  conversation 
was  passing  between  them:  "I  say,  Ruth,  it  is  a  shame 
that  you,  the  daughter  of  one  who  but  a  few  years  ago 
could  count  his  millions,  should  come  to  where  you  must 
soil  your  pretty  hands  with  labor  and  accept  a  position 
so  menial  as  that  of  waiting  maid."  At  this  remonstrance 
Ruth's  bowed  head  was  lifted  proudly  and  she  spiritedly 
made  answer:  "Menial!  Why,  my  reverend  kins 
woman,  I  had  not  once  thought  of  this  from  that  stand 
point.  Honest  labor  can  never  be  degrading.  My  hands 
may  be  white  and  tender,  but  they  can  not  be  harmed  by 
honest  toil.  Besides,  God  hath  said:  The  hand  of  the 
diligent  maketh  rich.'  Labor  can  never  be  degrading, 
for  'as  the  altar  sanctifieth  the  gift/  so  shall  I  if  I  am 
truly  noble,  elevate  my  calling."  And  then  in  a  gentler 
tone  she  continued:  "My  sainted  mother  often  taught 
me  that  none  were  so  menial  as  they  who  are  willing  to 
eat  the  bread  of  idleness. 

"That  may  be  all  true,  dear  Ruth,  but  the  world  does 
not  look  at  it  from  your  standpoint,  and  it  is  a  grievous 
thought  to  me  that  you  must  come  down  so  low." 

Ruth's  cheek  crimsoned  at  this  remark  and  her  voice 
rang. out  sharply  as  she  repeated:  "Down  so  low!  Why 
do  you  not  say  to  a  calling  so  high?  Who  shall  say  that 


12  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

labor  is  not  God-ordained?  What  care  I  for  the  false 
convictions  of  society?  If  society  is  in  error,  then  my 
mission  in  the  world  shall  be  to  show  forth  the  right  way 
to  live  upon  the  earth.  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,  my 
friend,  for  I  do  not  feel  humbled  in  being  obliged  to  give 
my  hand  to  labor,  but  at  the  false  education  of  the  people 
and  the  seeming  inequality  of  the  rich  and  the  poor.  All 
1  want  is  justice.  Why  are  not  the  children  of  the  poor 
protected  by  the  government  which  professes  to  be  of 
the  people,  by  the  people  and  for  the  people?  Why  do 
not  the  children  of  capitalists  feel  obliged  to  enter  work 
shops  and  factories,  stunting  their  bodies  and  dwarfing 
their  minds  even  as  the  children  of  the  poor  are  obliged 
to  do?  Why?  Simply  because  the  only  real  protection 
that  is  offered  is  given  to  Capital.  The  poor  man's  ex 
tremity  is  the  rich  man's  opportunity.  The  children  of 
the  poor  are  compelled  to  bite  the  very  dust  because  the 
government,  which  is  so  great  and  has  become  so  rich 
from  the  rum  revenue,  has  never  once  thought  to  educate 
the  children  of  its  people." 

"Dear  Ruth,  you  are  wonderfully  keen  this  morning 
and,  I  think,  somewhat  in  error,  since  our  public  schools 
are  free  alike  to  the  rich  and  the  poor." 

"Ah,  indeed!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "Who  will  earn  my 
bread  and  raiment  while  I  attend  the  public  schools? 
And  should  I  be  fortunate  enough  to  push  my  way 
through,  subsisting  upon  the  poorest  fare,  suffering  with 
want  and  cold  until  I  have  been  graduated  from  the  pub 
lic  school,  who  then  will  take  up  my  cause  and  send  me 
to  a  higher  place  of  learning?  I  tell  you,  my  friend, 
society  is  out  of  balance  and  the  burden  of  life  rests  upon 
those  who  are  oppressed  and  downtrodden — oppressed 
not  by  individuals  but  by  the  government." 

"My   dear  Ruth,   you   are   mysteriously  deep  in   your 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SERVICE.  13 

reasoning  to-day.  Tell  me,  child,  what  has  the  govern 
ment  to  do  with  the  oppression  you  now  suffer?" 

"It  has  everything  to  do  with  it,"  replied  the  girl.  "Is 
not  the  government  a  partner  in  the  rum  traffic?  That 
the  government  might  grow  rich,  my  poor  father  was 
made  a  slave  to  strong  drink — made  a  pauper  and  a 
drunkard;  and  now  while  he  is  sleeping  in  an  unhallowed 
grave  I,  his  child,  must  suffer  in  poverty  and  want,  being 
compelled  to  forego  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  life  be 
cause  cruel  men  who  love  gold  more  than  the  children  of 
the  land  have  sold  their  honor  to  the  rum  power." 

"Ah,  Ruth,  what  can  you,  a  child  of  fifteen,  know  about 
governmental  affairs  or  the  wickedness  of  corrupt  politi 
cians?  You  had  better  apply  your  mind  to  childish  things 
and  trust  God  to  care  for  the  children  of  America." 

A  flush  crept  over  the  girl's  cheek  and  in  a  clear  and 
ringing  voice  she  replied:  "Can  not  I  read?  The  secular 
papers  reveal  much  to  us,  and  even  though  I  am  but  a 
child,  I  can  see  and  understand  just  how  the  children  of 
the  land  are  robbed  of  their  rightful  inheritance.  I  do 
trust  God  to  care  for  the  children,  but  is  not  man,  in  his 
power  to  legislate  for  America,  God's  agent  and  there 
fore  coequal  with  the  great  ruler  of  the  ntaions?  Surely 
every  man  is  a  citizen  king  in  his  own  right  by  the  power 
of  the  ballot.  But  no  matter  how  much  man  may  desire 
to  do  right,  his  power  is  lost  when  the  preliminaries  are 
often  held  in  the  saloon.  The  higher  promptings  of  men 
in  office  are  smothered  with  gold,  while  the  liquor  traffic 
has  become  the  most  prominent  factor  in  the  political 
world."  So  it  was  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  Ruth  Mansfield 
had  really  begun  to  set  in  order  a  chain  of  thought  that 
must  yet  become  a  mighty  power  for  good. 

Her  poor  little  head  fairly  whirled  with  the  rapid  suc 
cession  of  thought  that  came  reeling  in  like  a  flood  upon 


14  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

her  soul  as  she  climbed  up  Xob  Hill  that  morning  to 
undertake  her  first  day's  work  as  waiting  maid  to  the 
young  mistress  of  the  Palace  Earnestine.  There  was  noth 
ing  plebeian  about  this  girl  who  was  now  to  take  her  first 
lesson  in  service  for  others. 

As  she  was  ushered  into  the  house  and  shown  to  her 
own  apartment,  and  her  duty  portrayed  to  her  by  that 
frigid  personage,  Miss  Emile  Langsford,  the  maiden  aunt 
of  Marie  Earnestine,  she  was  made  to  scorn  the  haughty 
spirit  of  the  woman  who  strove  most  imperiously  to  im 
press  upon  her  that  she  was  alienated  from  society  and 
must  therefore  bow  before  those  with  whom  her  lot  was 
now  cast. 

Detecting  the  spirit  thus  manifested,  Ruth  Mansfield 
at  the  very  outset  made  a  firm  resolve  that,  whether  she 
forfeited  her  position  or  not,  she  would  at  every  and  all 
times  maintain  a  high  and  noble  spirit  of  independence, 
and  thus  show  forth  her  own  gentle  breeding;  thereby 
proving  herself  to  be  the  equal  of  any  member  of  that 
aristocratic  family. 

Poor  girl!  She  did  not  realize  the  many  and  sore  trials 
which  she  must  undergo  in  order  to  maintain  that  spirit 
of  independence  which  she  felt  she  must  preserve  if  she 
would  hold  Labor  equally  high  with  Capital.  But  she 
thought  (for  somehow  this  girl  was  not  born  for  herself) 
t1>at  other  girls  equally  as  noble  as  herself,  even  at  this 
present  time,  were  passing  through  the  same  ordeal. 
Therefore  she  realized  that  she  was  fighting  for  a  principle; 
and  she  whetted  her  weapons  upon  the  steel  that  was 
rasping  her  soul  until  they  were  sharpened  fourfold.  And 
a  burning  desire  took  possession  of  her  to  help  other  girls 
to  stand  as  nobly  as  she  would  do,  and  therefore  her  high 
est  ambition  was  to  do  her  best. 

Finding  herself  duly  settled,  she  found  that  Marie  Earne- 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SERVICE.  15 

stine  reigned  a  veritable  tyrant  in  her  home.  Every  maid 
servant  and  even  the  coachman  quailed  before  her.  Every 
member  of  the  family  literally  gave  in  to  her.  Would 
Ruth  do  this?  She  thought  not;  for,  she  said  to  herself: 
"It  would  be  just  as  bad  for  me  to  indulge  her  in  a  fault 
as  it  would  be  to  do  wrong  myself."  And  so  the  two 
began  together,  each  measuring  the  other's  strength. 
One  or  the  other  must  yield  at  every  point.  Which  would 
it  be?  the  question  remained  to  be  answered  in  the  days 
to  come.  Being  an  only  child,  bereft  of  a  mother's  love 
and  care,  left  to  the  charge  of  a  wealthy  and  indolent 
father,  Marie  had  come  up  in  life  with  little  or  no  restraint 
upon  her.  Poor  girl!  She  was  not  only  starving  for  a 
mother's  love,  but  was  tempted  with  all  the  evils  that 
\\calth  could  place  before  her.  Who  can  wonder  that 
the  children  of  the  rich  fall  into  diverse  temptations  and 
so  often  go  wrong,  since  no  restraint  is  thrown  around 
them,  and  the  very  bulwark  of  society  a  snare?  In  this 
case  the  thing  That  Ruth  most  wondered  at  was  that  the 
child  \\a>  e\\n  so  r<  od  and  true  as  slie  was;  for  in  her 
better  moments  Ruth  could  detect  great  depths  of  char 
acter — shattered  and  uncertain,  to  be  sure — yet  not  hope 
less,  Thus  with  the  tact  of  one  older  in  years,  this  gentle 
girl  began  t.o  ply  thought  in  Marie's  case;  or  in  other 
words,  to  plant  little  seeds  of  love,  watering  them  with 
her  own  sunny  spirit  that  they  might  sprout  and  grow  to 
strengthen  and  ennoble  the  character  of  her  charge. 

A  few  evenings  after  her  entrance  into  the  home,  Ruth 
was  assisting  Marie  to  disrobe,  when  the  latter  spoke  to 
her  in  a  very  unkind  and  uncomplimentary  manner,  for 
she  was  doing  her  very  best  to  please.  Ruth  stood  apart 
with  a  look  of  surprise  and  superiority  upon  her  face, 
which  look  was  intended  to  inspire  the  child  with  respect 
and  cause  her  to  repent.  Marie  was  in  a  rage,  and  fairly 


1C  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

screamed  with  indignation  as  she  exclaimed:  "You  mean 
thing!  I  won't  let  such  an  ugly  girl  as  you  come  near  me! 
I  will  discharge  you  to-morrow!" 

Ruth  had  never  in  her  life  seen  a  child  in  such  a  rage, 
and  did  not  know  that  one  could  display  such  madness. 
At  length,  she  exclaimed:  "Oh,  Miss  Marie,  just  look  in 
the  mirror  and  see  your  face!  Which  one  of  us  do  you 
think  looks  the  more  ugly  at  this  moment?" 

The  request  was  concise  and  well  ordered.  Marie 
rendered  obedience  and  the  effect  was  miraculous,  for 
seeing  her  own  face  distorted  with  rage,  and  Ruth's 
wreathed  in  smiles,  she  at  once  became  crimson  with 
shame  and  burst  into  tears.  She  found  herself  helpless, 
and  said:  "Please,  Ruth,  won't  you  help  me?" 

This  was  an  opportunity  that  the  maid  could  not  well 
afford  to  lose  and  she  very  gently  replied:  "Will  you 
promise  that  you  will  not  do  it  again?" 

Immediately  the  child's  arms  were  thrown  around 
Ruth's  neck,  and  after  the  manner  of  penitent  childhood, 
they  kissed  and  made  up,  while  a  sincere  promise  \vas 
given  by  the  young  mistress  "Never,  never  to  speak  so 
unkindly  again." 

This  was  a  turning  point  in  Marie's  life,  and  young 
though  Ruth  was,  yet  she  strove  at  all  times  to  wield  a 
mother's  influence  over  the  girl  and  make  of  her  the  noble 
woman  that  God  had  intended  her  to  be. 

From  this  time  a  real  friendship  began  to  exist  between 
maid  and  mistress  which  was  sweet  and  bid  fair  to  be  of 
lasting  duration.  Thus  the  arrival  of  Ruth  Mansfield  at 
the  mansion  brought  a  herald  of  joy  to  the  entire  house 
hold.  It  has  been  said  by  the  immortal  Beecher  that 
"there  is  no  place  easy  in  the  various  avenues  of  labor," 
so  indeed  our  heroine  of  this  story  found  it  in  the  new 
part  she  was  playing  in  this  drama  of  life.  But  perhaps 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SERVICE.  17 

the  hardest  trial  to  her  in  her  first  day's  experience  was  at 
that  moment  when  she  came  to  take  her  seat  at  the  table 
with  the  servants  of  the  household.  She  had  never  before 
associated  with  uncultured  and  illiterate  people,  and  until 
now  she  did  not  realize  what  a  distinct  line  there  was 
drawn  between  Capital  and  Labor.  For  a  moment  she 
bowed  her  head  and  asked  herself  to  which  of  the  classes 
she  rightfully  belonged.  Was  she  thus  to  be  ostracized 
from  the  cultured  and  gentle  people  of  the  world?  Should 
she  flee  from  the  position  and  strive  to  make  her  way 
through  the  world  by  some  other  means  of  livelihood? 
The  tempter  came  who  had  assailed  her  twice  before; 
should  she  listen?  What  a  plausible  story  he  was  telling 
her!  She  could  still  hold  her  position  in  society  and  per 
haps  go  on  with  her  studies.  But  only  for  a  moment  did 
she  permit  this  monster  to  linger  near  her  soul,  for  at  his 
approach  her  pure  spirit  revolted  and  the  very  thought 
was  repugnant  to  her.  "No!"  she  said.  "A  thousand 
times,  no !  I  will  abide  my  lot  and  trust  in  God  who  has 
led  me  here  for  'He  doeth  all  things  well.' " 

Then  she  took  the  inmates  of  the  household  and 
weighed  them  in  the  balance;  for  a  moment  only  they 
hung  there,  and  then  Capital  went  up  and  Labor  came 
down  because  love  and  humanity  were  on  its  side.  A 
peaceful  glow,  which  was  the  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
illuminated  her  countenance  and  a  glad  look  rested  upon 
her  face  for  she  saw  her  duty  clearly,  and  she  realized  that 
God  was  leading  her  by  the  way.  At  length,  she  mentally 
ejaculated,  as  though  she  were  addressing  a  spirit  at  vari 
ance  with  her  God,  "We  must  succumb  to  the  inevitable 
and  work  for  the  toiling  masses." 

For  a  moment  she  looked  far  away  in  advance  of  her 
day  and  time,  and  thought  there  must  be  somewhere  in 
the  future  a  general  round-up  in  society — a  time  when 


IS  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Labor  shall  receive  its  just  reward — a  time  when  Capital 
and  Labor  would  rest  upon  the  same  social  footing  to 
gether. 

What  a  victory  that  would  be!  Ruth  smiled  joyously 
and  as  she  raised  her  head  from  meditation  she  was 
accosted  by  old  Jerry,  the  gardener,  who  said:  "Miss 
Ruth,  be  ye  a  savin'  grace?  Yer  face  bes  a  lookin'  as 
sanctmonious  as  a  deacon's." 

Ruth  smiled  back  at  the  merry  old  man  who  was  just 
bubbling  over  with  good  humor,  and  replied:  "No, 
Jerry,  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  was  not;  but  I  think  since  you 
have  mentioned  it,  that  we  would  all  be  happier  and  better 
if  we  would  acknowledge  God  in  all  our  ways."  Ruth 
could  not  eat,  and  therefore  while  her  work-fellows  were 
enjoying  the  repast,  she  was  trying  to  think  of  some  plan 
whereby  she  could  benefit  this  group  of  colaborers  and 
make  them  better  for  her  association  with  them. 

It  is  a  faithful  saying  that  "A  soul,  like  books,  with  true 
merit  within,  always  finds  some  who  appreciate  its  worth." 

And  so  as  Ruth  sat  that  day  in  their  midst,  her  real 
worth  was  being  measured  by  them,  and  the  influence  of 
her  cultured  spirit  had  already  made  its  impress  felt  upon 
every  heart.  As  they  arose  from  the  table,  Jerry  came 
and  stood  by  her  side  and  said:  "Miss  Ruth,  I  sees  by 
yer  make-up  that  yer  hain't  ben  accustomed  ter  service, 
and  me  heart  bes  sorry  fer  ye,  me  lassie,  fer  me  knows 
how  thorny  yer  path  will  be  in  this  'ouse.  But  remember, 
me  gurl,  as  how  old  Jerry  am  yer  friend,  and  ef  yer  has 
any  trouble  jes  come  ter  me  and  I  will  gi  yer  me  counsel." 

Ruth  smiled  at  this  plain,  awkward  speech  that  had  been 
made  in  the  hearing  of  all  and  kindly  thanked  the  good 
old  man  who  had  thus  taken  such  a  fatherly  interest  in 
her.  And  as  she  passed  out  from  the  room,  she  heard 
him  say:  "Jes  yer  wait  till  that  divil,  Mr.  Harry,  comes 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SERVICE.  19 

back  an'd  the  gurl  will  know  what  I   bes  meanin'  fer 
her." 

As  Ruth  laid  her  head  upon  her  pillow  that  night,  she 
was  turning  over  in  her  mind  the  experiences  of  the  day 
and  wondering  what  manner  of  warning  old  Jerry  was 
trying  to  give  her  and  what  he  could  have  meant  about 
things  in  the  house  that  would  not  be  pleasant  to  hear. 
But  being  of  a  guileless  nature,  she  was  not  one  to  meet 
unpleasantnesses  before  they  came,  and  after  breathing 
her  evening  prayer  she  felt  an  assurance  of  rest  and 
security  steal  over  tier  spirit,  and  as  she  merged  into 
dreamland,  her  meditations  were:  "My  mother's  God  will 
care  for  her  child." 


~-£ 

«.<*§ 

AN   EVENT    IN    RUTH'S    LIFE, 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  MODERN  SOCIAL  OGRE. 

Ruth  was  getting  to  be  wonderfully  wise  for  her  years 
and  many  things  were  coming  to  her  more  like  revelation 
than  from  experience.  Her  spirit,  like  a  musical  instru 
ment  tuned  by  an  artist's  touch,  was  being  molded  by 
the  hand  of  God  to  send  forth  harmony  into  the  great 
discordant  world.  And,  like  Mediae,  she  was  ever  coming 
between  the  two  discords,  restoring  a  lost  key  or  supply 
ing  a  lost  chord  heretofore  unknown. 

The  world  to  her  was  not  a  barren  desert,  without  its 
dewdrops  and  sunshine;  for  all  existence  was  perfect, 
from  creator  to  creature,  and  the  future  of  man  with  his 
wonderful  capacity  was  her  sublimest  thought. 

She  revered  the  great  and  learned,  and  was  ready  to 
fall  down  at  the  feet  of  truth  or  to  worship  at  purity's 
shrine,  believing  that  all  perfection  was  God  and  the  very 
Christ  of  the  law.  Thus  her  days  were  an  even  tenor  and 
her  presence,  like  a  ray  of  sunlight  in  a  darkened  place, 
made  the  mansion  more  attractive  day  by  day  to  its  in 
mates  than  it  was  ever  before.  Her  very  touch  seemed 
to  make  the  upholstery  yield  a  more  luxuriant  repose  and 
contending  spirits  laid  their  sharpened  arrows  aside  for 
other  and  fiercer  strife.  She  had  her  trials  though  which 
were  hard  to  bear. 

A  few  weeks  after  her  advent  into  the  Earnestine  home, 
she  was  given  an  opportunity  to  understand  the  import 
of  the  kindly  old  gardener's  words  when  he  said,  "Besides, 
there  bes  other  thing  in  the  'ouse  as  will  not  be  pleasant 
fer  yer." 


22  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

It  so  chanced  one  day  as  she  was  walking  in  the  garden 
poring  over  a  lesson  in  algebra  (for  Ruth  had  determined 
by  God's  help  not  to  give  up  her  chance  of  an  education — 
no,  not  so  long  as  she  could  get  a  few  moments  each  day 
for  study)  that  she  came  face  to  face  with  a  stranger,  who 
greeted  her  in  the  following  desultory  manner:  "Good- 
morning,  my  pretty  lassie.  Glad  to  make  your  acquaint 
ance  out  here  in  this  secluded  \valk.  Am  sure  I  ought  to 
find  favor  in  your  sight.  My  cousin  Marie  has  been 
writing  me  all  about  her  pretty  brunette  maid,  and  now 
my  eyes  behold  thee!  So  come  now,  just  give  me  your 
welcome  home  and  let  us  seal  it  with  a  kiss  and  thus 
declare  our  friendship."  Suited  to  his  words,  he  put  his 
lips  so  near  the  girl's  cheek  that  she  could  smell  his 
breath  and  shrank  from  him  as  though  a  viper  had  stung 
her  flesh.  Drawing  herself  up  full  height,  her  dark  eyes 
flashing  with  indignation,  she  exclaimed:  "You  miser 
able,  contemptible  puppy!  How  dare  you  insult  me  this 
way?"  For  a  moment  the  wretch  quailed  before  the  girl, 
then  disregarding  his  nobler  impulse  to  apologize,  his 
face  assumed  a  beastly  expression  as  he  replied:  "I  am 
Harry  Rumsford,  a  nephew  of  Judge  Earhestine,  the 
millionaire,  and  are  you  not  the  waiting  maid  of  his 
daughter,  Marie?" 

"I  have  the  honor,  sir,  to  be  thus  employed,  but  chat 
does  not  give  you  a  license  to  thus  approach  me.  Go  out 
of  my  sight,  and  never  again  dare  to  speak  to  me  out  of 
Miss  Earnestine's  presence." 

Just  at  that  moment,  old  Jerry,  the  gardener,  came  to 
her  rescue  and  Harry  Rumsford  mockingly  lifted  his  hat 
and  said:  "Good-day,  Miss  Mansfield,  we  shall  meet 
again." 

Ruth's  countenance  wore  such  an  expression  of  con 
tempt  that  the  whole  matter  was  revealed  to  the  fatherly 


THE  MODERN  SOCIAL  OGRE.  25 

old  man  at  a  glance,  and  she  burst  into  tears,  saying: 
"Miss  Earnestine  told  me  that  her  cousin  would  be  here 
to-day,  but  I  looked  to  see  a  gentleman  instead  of  that 
vulgar  fellow.  What  a  pity  that  such  a  wretch  must  have 
access  to  this  home!  One  would  naturally  suppose  that 
a  person  with  so  many  advantages  of  education  and  social 
culture  would  know  how  to  treat  a  lady." 

"Ah,  me  gurl,"  replied  old  Jerry,  "it  bain't  ignorance 
on  his  part.  He'd  not  speak  so  ter  one  his  social  equals, 
as  he  has  ter  ye.  Such  a  man  as  Harry  Rumsford  bes 
a  parasite  on  society,  an'  an  enemy  to  ev'ry  wurkin'  gurl. 
Ah,  me  dear,  if  ye  wer  ter  go  ter  the  slums  of  our  city,  ye'd 
find  that  many  of  the  fallen  women  there  tuck  their  first 
step  down'ard  tempted  by  jist  sich  divils  as  him." 

Ruth's  cheek  blanched  at  the  thought  embodied  in 
Jerry's  plain  speech  and  she  hastened  to  say :  "You  surely 
do  not  mean  for  me  to  understand  that  his  motive  in  thus 
approaching  me  was  for  the  purpose  of  leading  me  into 
a  snare — to  cause  my  downfall!" 

"It's  about  the  same,  me  gurl.  Why,  just  now,  from 
behind  the  shrubs  I  overheerd  'im  say  ter  his  companion 
that  he  bes  comin'  down  to  make  love  ter  ye,  and  when 
sich  fellows  as  Harry  Rumsford  makes  luv  to  a  wurkin' 
gurl,  it  bain't  for  no  good  purpose.  An'  me  tells  ye, 
Miss  Ruth,  if  yer  stays  in  this  'ouse  an'  resist  that  wretch, 
ye'll  do  better'n  the  gurls  before  ye  'ave  done." 

Ruth's  cheek  burned  as  these  words  of  the  good  man 
smote  upon  her  ear,  and  burying  her  nails  deep  in  her 
palms,  said:  "Then,  Jerry,  I  shall  do  better  than  other 
girls  have  done  for  I  will  teach  him  that  there  is  at  least 
one  working  girl  in  the  world  who  has  the  grace  and 
courage  to  withstand  the  wiles  of  his  wicked  heart.  It 
will  do  him  no  good  to  plan  for  my  downfall."  Turning, 
to  go  to  the  house,  she  passed  up  one  of  the  broad  walks 


26  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

and  came  face  to  face  with  Marie  Earnestine  and  her 
cousin,  he  whom  she  had  given  such  a  rebuff  for  his 
insolence  only  a  few  moments  before.  Just  as  she  was 
passing  them,  Marie  said:  "Oh,  Ruth!  I  want  to  intro 
duce  you  to  my  cousin  Harry.  Mr.  Rumsford,  this  is 
Miss  Ruth  Mansfield,  my  companion."  Ruth  looked  into 
the  face  of  her  young  mistress  and  smiled  pleasantly,  but 
passed  on  without  so  much  as  casting  one  glance  toward 
her  companion.  Rumsford's  cheek  turned  crimson  and  he 
gnawed  angrily  at  his  mustache  while  they  both  gazed 
until  Ruth  had  passed  out  of  sight. 

Marie  was  about  to  make  apology  for  her  companion, 
when  her  cousin  interrupted  her  utterances  by  exclaiming: 
"The  young  vixen!  how  dare  she  treat  you  in  that  con 
temptuous  way!  If  I  were  in  your  place,  Marie,  I  would 
give  her  a  lesson  on  showing  respect  to  her  superiors. 
How  dare  a  working  girl  ignore  a  request  of  her  mistress? 
How  dare  she  hold  so  high  her  head  in  the  presence  of 
the  daughter  of  a  millionaire?  I  am  astonished,  Marie,  at 
your  forbearance.  She  gave  you  an  insult!" 

Marie  tried  to  apologize  for  Ruth,  but  he  was  unreason 
able  and  would  not  let  her  proceed.  He  soon  brought 
Marie  to  say  that  she  would  give  her  maid  a  lesson  in 
obedience — a  thing  which  she  had  not  attempted  to  do 
since  that  eventful  night  when  Ruth  had  caused  her  to  see 
her  face  in  the  mirror.  But  now  that  the  old  wicked, 
domineering  spirit  was  again  called  forth  she  was  eager 
to  reassert  her  authority  and,  if  possible,  humble  Ruth 
before  her.  So,  following  closely  upon  Ruth's  steps,  she 
mounted  the  staircase  with  more  than  her  usual  life  and 
vigor;  but  was  halted  by  her  cousin  a  moment,  who  said: 
"Tell  her,  while  you  are  about  it,  that  it  is  her  duty  to 
talk  to  me  whenever  and  wherever  I  see  fit  to  address  her." 

Poor  unsuspecting  Marie!  had  she  been  older  in  years 


THE  MODERN  SOCIAL,  OGRE.  27 

she  might  better  have  understood  the  meaning  of  these 
words;  but,  innocent  of  her  cousin's  true  spirit,  she 
made  herself  think,  as  she  was  framing  her  reprimand  to 
Ruth,  that  the  girl  had  surely  committed  a  breach  of  eti 
quette  and  was  greatly  in  fault.  She  thus  went  abruptly 
into  the  room  Ruth  had  just  entered,  and  exclaimed:  "I 
say,  Ruth,  what  did  you  mean  by  your  discourteous  treat 
ment,  when  I  attempted  to  introduce  you  to  my  cousin, 
Harry  Rumsford?  I  want  you  to  understand  that  when 
I  stoop  low  enough  to  introduce  you  to  gentle  people 
that  I  expect  you  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy." 

Ruth's  eyes  flashed  and  for  a  moment  her  face  expressed 
the  thought  of  her  heart,  and  then  remembering  that  her 
opportunity  to  conquer  the  foe  would  be  lost  if  she  were 
to  give  way  to  temper,  she  replied:  "Miss  Earnestine,  I 
know  my  attitude  must  have  seemed  rude  to  you,  but 
believe  me,  I  could  not  so  far  forget  my  womanly  nature 
as  to  permit  myself  to  be  introduced  to  one  so  low  as 
Harry  Rumsford.  He  may  be  your  cousin,  but  for  all 
that  I  know  him  to  be  a  contemptible  man,  unworthy  to 
be  associated  with  pure  w£>men — and  I  do  not  wish  to 
know  him." 

At  this  Marie  flew  into  a  rage  and  began  to  upbraid 
Ruth  with  wicked  words,  saying:  "You  plebeian  girl! 
Don't  you  know  that  Mr.  Rumsford  is  my  father's  nephew 
and  has  a  quarter  of  a  million  in  his  own  name?  He  has 
the  prospect  of  a  great  fortune  by  and  by,  and  how  dare 
you  speak  so  disrespectfully  of  a  wealthy  man?  Don't 
you  have  sense  to  know  you  would  be  honored  by  being 
introduced  to  him?" 

"Honored!  Indeed,  Miss  Earnestine,  I  should  feel 
greatly  dishonored  to  even  have  a  speaking  acquaintance 
with  such  a  person.  You  call  me  plebeian  but,  Miss  Earn 
estine,  do  you  not  know  that  in  America  only  those  can  be 


28  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

called  plebeian  that  are  base  and  vile?  To  that  class  your 
cousin  most  truly  belongs.  Money  can  not  make  a  gentle 
man,  neither  can  it  cleanse  a  heart  from  sin;  besides,  I 
would  ask  by  what  means  has  he  gotten  his  wealth  ?  Did  I 
not  hear  Judge  Earnestine  say  that  Mr.  Rumsford's  money 
was  all  invested  in  the  saloon  and  manufacturing  business 
of  San  Francisco?  And  if  that  be  true,  then  his  money 
is  of  the  ill-gotten  gains  accumulated  from  robbing  the 
noble  working  men  and  their  women  and  children." 

Ruth's  words  seemed  to  Marie  the  most  foolish  she  had 
ever  heard,  and  straightway  she  demanded  an  explanation. 
Ruth  replied :  "You  know,  Marie,  that  Judge  Earnestine 
said  himself  that  in  a  certain  manufactory  where  a  large 
portion  of  Mr.  Rumsford's  money  is  invested  the  income 
is  five  hundred  dollars  a  day.  Is  he  not  in  the  saloon 
business  and  is  he  not  murdering  our  men  and  wrecking 
the  happiness  of  homes?  No,  Miss  Earnestine,  you  need 
not  try  to  introduce  me  to  such  a  man  as  he,  for  I  do  not 
wish  to  know  him." 

"But,"  persisted  the  young  lady,  "he  is  my  cousin  and 
is  to  live  under  the  same  roof  with  us,  and  you  must  treat 
him  kindly  and  speak  to  him  too  whenever  he  desires  to 
converse  with  you." 

"Never!"  replied  Ruth.  "After  his  insult  of  this  morn 
ing,  I  would  rather  talk  to  a  puppy." 

Marie's  wrath  was  now  spent,  and  bursting  into  tears, 
she  exclaimed:  "I  do  not  understand  what  you  mean. 
Has  Harry  been  saying  anything  to  you?  I  did  not  know 
that  you  and  he  had  met." 

Ruth  sat  down  by  Marie's  side  and  told  her  all  that  had 
happened  out  in  the  garden  path,  not  omitting  anything, 
even  that  the  gardener  had  said  to  her.  In  concluding  her 
story  she  said:  "Now,  Miss  Earnestine,  I  shall  not  think 
it  kind  of  you  to  try  in  any  way  to  throw  me  into  his 


THE  MODERN  SOCIAL  OGRE.  29 

company,  for  he  is  unworthy  of  my  respect."  Marie 
weighed  the  words  with  gravity,  and  though  she  seem 
ingly  had  no  comprehension  of  how  her  cousin  had  earned 
his  wealth,  yet  she  could  see  and  feel  that  a  base  insult 
had  been  offered  to  Ruth  and  did  no  longer  wonder  at 
her  seeming  rudeness. 

For  the  remainder  of  the  day,  Marie  avoided  the  com 
pany  of  her  cousin,  fearing  he  would  not  take  it  kindly 
when  she  told  him  all  that  Ruth  had  said.  After  the 
dinner  hour  was  over,  though,  he  came  suddenly  upon 
her,  and,  leading  her  aside  into  a  little  alcove,  the  two  sat 
down  together  to  sup  a  glass  of  wine  that  had  been 
previously  ordered,  and  there  in  pleasant  converse  drew 
from  her  the  story  of  their  interview.  He  did  not  rage,  as 
she  had  expected,  but  simply  said  in  a  braggadocio  style, 
"Humph!  what  is  a  servant  for?" 

"But,"  ejaculated  Marie,  "it  is  unkind  in  you  to  try 
to  kiss  my  maid,  and  I  would  not  like  to  have  a  gentleman 
speak  to  me  as  you  spoke  to  Ruth  this  morning!" 

"No,  I  guess  you  wouldn't,  my  pretty  Coz,  but  then, 
you  see,  you  belong  to  a  different  class." 

Marie  did  not  see;  for,  being  so  strongly  attached  to 
Ruth  as  she  was,  she  could  not  but  recoil  from  her  cousin's 
words,  which  seemed  to  her,  even  as  to  her  maid,  coarse 
and  vile. 

The  epicurean  sentiments  expressed  by  Harry  Rumsford 
to  his  fair  young  cousin  are  but  the  true  measure  of  the 
sentiments  of  some  of  the  male  portion  of  aristocracy  to 
day.  And  the  case  of  Ruth  Mansfield  is  not  one  whit 
more  striking  than  the  daily  experience  of  thousands  of 
girls  in  America  who  are  a  prey  to  just  such  beings 
as  Harry  Rumsford.  But,  while  this  state  of  things 
in  the  face  of  society  remains  a  glaring  fact,  many  mothers 
gather  they-  skirts  around  their  own  pure  daughters  to 


30  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

shield  them,  while  they  hold  up  their  hands  in  holy  horror 
whenever  they  see  or  meet  a  poor  Magdalen. 

If  we  were  to  take  a  tracing  line  and  ferret  out  the  cause 
of  many  of  the  lost  ones'  downfall,  we  should  find  that 
almost  every  unfortunate  came  to  her  woe  from  the  luring 
temptation  put  in  her  way  by  the  evils  of  the  day.  But 
Ruth,  brave  girl!  being  forewarned,  was  now  forearmed 
and  prepared  to  meet  with  contumacy  every  attempt  made 
by  Harry  Rumsford  to  thrust  his  obnoxious  presence 
upon  her. 

But  oft  and  repeatedly  had  she  to  assert  her  independ 
ence,  for,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  those  who  have  never 
stood  on  the  same  plane,  this  wretch  seemed  bent  upon 
her  ruin.  Be  it  said  to  the  honor  of  the  average  work 
ing  girl  that  purity  is  held  by  her  co-ordinately  in  the 
same  balance  with  the  daughters  of  wealth;  and  from 
the  many  rebuffs  which  they  are  compelled  by  the  present 
state  of  society  to  encounter,  they  are  far  more  able  to 
withstand  temptation  than  the  petted  dolls  of  society  who 
are  so  carefully  protected  by  governesses,  chaperones,  etc. 

Kind  reader,  you,  who  have  never  felt  the  cutting  steel 
of  society,  will  think  that  these  words  pre  savored  with 
irony.  But  if  you  will  put  yourself  for  one  brief  day 
in  the  place  of  some  of  our  girls,  your  utterances  will 
not  only  be  ironical,  but  your  spirit  will  rage,  even  as  does 
that  of  the  author  whose  hand  holds  the  pen  to  tell  you 
this  tale  of  wrong;  for  it  were  useless  to  take  our  pen 
to  tell  an  idle  story.  The  age  in  which  we  live  is  too 
great  with  meaning  for  any  one  to  spend  their  time  and 
strength  helping  women  to  kill  time  pleasantly.  Too 
many  people  love  to  read  an  idle  tale  while  they  loiter 
on  the  riparian  banks,  or  sail  down  the  river  of  Life  un 
conscious  that  a  great,  needy,  hungry  world  is  perishing 
for  help  and  pleading  for  protection  from  that  beast  that 


THE  MODERN  SOCIAL  OGRE.  ft 

stands  as  a  giant  ogre,  not  only  to  devour  the  working 
girls,  but  those  who  do  not  work  as  well.  Right  here  we 
pause  to  say  a  word  to  those  mothers  who  are  constantly 
employing  female  help.  Dear  sisters,  have  you  never 
paused  to  think  that  the  Lord  who  has  so  prospered  your 
efforts  in  life  as  to  make  it  possible  for  you  to  exist  in 
the  lap  of  luxury,  will  hold  you  accountable  if  you  do 
not  keep  the  same  tender,  watchful  eye  upon  your  help  as 
you  do  upon  your  own  daughter?  The  same  happy,  pure 
environments  should  be  in  your  kitchen  or  in  your  work 
shop  or  in  your  office  as  may  be  found  in  the  inner  circles 
of  the  home.  The  blessed  God  who  permitted  you  to 
become  the  mother  of  daughters  has  not  only  laid  the 
responsibility  upon  you  of  training  them  in  purity,  but 
He  has  at  the  same  time  made  you  amenable  for  the  wrong 
done  unto  other  mothers'  daughters  whom  you  may  be 
so  fortunate  as  to  have  under  your  roof.  Likewise,  He 
who  has  also  made  you  a  mother  of  sons  has,  by  divine 
unction,  laid  upon  you  the  same  responsibility  of  training 
them  up  in  purity  as  the  girl  that  has  been  crr.dled  in  your 
bosom.  She  who  can  calmly  look  upon'the  fallen  woman 
hood  of  our  land,  knowing  that  her  indolence  and  the 
loose  training  of  her  sons  has  been  the  means  of  adding 
to  this  plethoric  stream  of  woe,  likewise  in  spirit  must  be 
consenting  to  the  moral  death  of  her  own  sex,  and  is, 
therefore,  unworthy  the  gift  of  life  for  one  brief  hour. 
Ah,  dear  sister!  you  whose  eye  is  resting  upon  this  page, 
can  not  you  see  that  the  wrong  done  to  our  working  girls 
is  an  indivisible  wrong,  and  is  only  reparable  through 
the  earnest  teachings  of  the  mothers  of  all  classes  to  their 
sons  as  well  as  to  their  daughters?  It  behooves  mothers 
and  teachers  to  raise  up  the  same  standard  of  purity  for 
men  and  women,  teaching  such  principles  from  the  very 
rraclle  side  to  the  child  entrusted  to  their  care.  May  God 


32 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


hasten  the  day  when  American  society  may  be  made  to 
dip  "seven  times"  in  the  waters  of  purity  and  come  up 
every  whit  whole  and  clean. 


HARRY  RUMSFORD  IN  CONVERSATION. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

RUTH'S  REFUSAL  TO  SERVE  WINE, 

It  is  a  faithful  saying  that  "blood  will  tell"  in  almost  any 
life;  but  in  the  case  of  Marie  Earnestine  it  was  not  so 
much  the  blood  as  a  failure  on  the  part  of  those  to  whom 
her  training  had  been  entrusted  to  understand  her  fre 
quent  cyclones  of  temper  and  the  remedy  that  would  heal 
her  naughty  spirit.  But  if  they  could  have  known  the 
yearning  in  her  heart  for  a  mother's  love  and  sympathy, 
even  her  frigid  aunt,  Emile  Langsford,  would  have  melted 
somewhat  and  felt  constrained  to  do  some  motherly  act 
which  might  have  turned  the  fierce,  wild  spirit  of  her 
neglected  niece.  Love's  rays  falling  upon  a  child's  heart 
are  far  better  than  the  rod  upon  his  back,  but  poor  Marie 
had  experienced  neither  of  these.  Petted  and  spoiled  from 
babyhood,  one  could  detect  in  her  natural  manner  that 
lack  of  gentle  molding  which  might  have  been  hers  had 
her  excellent  mother  lived  to  train  her  up  to  womanhood. 

All  the  environments  of  her  life  had  been  such  as  would 
have  a  tendency  to  lead  her  downward  instead  of  to  a 
higher  and  spiritual  existence.  Judge  Earnestine,  a  man 
of  easy  and  indolent  habits,  fond  of  the  wine-cup  and 
given  to  excesses,  had  little  or  no  thought  at  all  for  his 
child,  who  was  left  entirely  to  the  guidance  of  her  aunt, 
who  had  no  control  whatever  over  the  girl.  And  at  such 
times  as  she  would  fail  to  inspire  obedience,  she  would 
say:  "Ah,  well,  it  don't  matter  much  whether  she  has 
any  training  or  not ;  she  has  money  enough  to  carry  her 
through."  Thus,  like  a  wild  blossom,  she  had  been  left 


36  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

to  bloom  in  her  own  way  and  to  develop  as  best  she 
could. 

A  few  times  a  governess  had  been  secured  for  her,  but 
her  ungovernable  temper  had  baffled  all  attempts  on  the 
part  of  such  an  instructor  to  train  her  in  the  right  way; 
and  the  herculean  task  had  been  given  up  as  too  difficult 
an  undertaking.  No  one  seemed  to  understand  the  na 
ture  of  the  child,  and  not  until  Ruth's  advent  into  the 
house  had  they  ever  hoped  that  her  incorrigible  spirit 
could  be  tamed. 

Some  years  before  her  father  had  given  her  a  promise 
that  when  she  became  eighteen  he  would  take  her  on  a 
trip  to  Europe  in  order  that  she  might  there  give  her 
education  a  better  finish,  and  study  the  culture  of  other 
nations. 

This  had  been  an  everyday  theme  with  her,  and 
almost  as  much  as  Ruth  had  bothered  Marie  with  the 
labor  problem,  she  had  in  turn  proven  wearisome  with 
her  exaggerated  ideas  of  travel.  She  was  living  in  the 
future,  and  this  wondrous  trip  to  Europe  was,  she  felt, 
to  be  the  crowning  event  of  her  life. 

The  time  now  had  come  when  her  father's  promise  was 
to  be  fulfilled,  for  Marie  had  rounded  her  eighteenth  birth 
day,  and  in  her  wild  delight  at  the  thought  of  going 
abroad  she  was  lifted  into  an  intermundane  sphere  and 
literally  seemed  to  tread  on  air  as  she  counted  the  days 
before  the  family's  departure.  Yes,  Ruth  was  going  too, 
since  Marie  had  decided  that  she  could  not  dispense  with 
her  services.  Thus  with  a  rosaceous  blush  upon  her 
cheek  and  a  brilliant  look  of  expectation  in  her  eye,  she 
too  was  making  all  necessary  preparations  for  the 
journey. 

Ruth  was  glad  to  go,  for  she  felt  that  her  rudimentary 
knowledge  of  things  needed  a  better  finish,  and  this  op- 


RUTH'S  REFUSAL  TO  SERVE  WINE.  37 

portunity  was  to  her  a  God-ordained  event — a  time  given 
her  for  the  unfolding  of  cherished  hopes  wherein  her 
spirit,  so  great  with  desire  for  knowledge,  could  give  birth 
to  fonder  aspirations  and  greater  purposes  in  life.  Each 
day's  development  in  the  life  of  Ruth  Mansfield  but  re 
vealed  to  herself  that  hidden  away  in  the  recesses  of  her 
heart  were  great  thoughts  that  must  yet  be  breathed  forth 
upon  the  world.  But  how,  or  where,  or  when  she  was  to 
begin  her  career  was  to  her  a  sealed  book,  and  only  hope 
for  the  things  to  come  was  as  yet  made  known  to  her. 

She  fondly  dreamed  of  a  time  when  the  accursed  liquor 
traffic  should  be  put  away.  Somehow  she  felt  that  at 
no  distant  day  the  government,  which  seemed  so  stern 
and  dead  to  the  despairing  appeals  of  wife  and  children 
to-day,  would  take  up  the  issue  and  legislate  against  the 
wrong.  And  yes,  she  even  hoped  that  through  her  own 
efforts  upon  the  earth  there  might  be  some  legislation 
that  would  protect  the  girls  from  such  men  as  Harry 
Rumsford.  But  how  such  a  law  could  be  brought  about, 
the  plan  was  not  yet  revealed  to  her.  She  hoped,  too, 
that  the  time  would  come  when  all  children  could  be 
trained,  as  she  had  been,  in  the  counsels  and  admonitions 
of  Christ.  How  she  longed  to  have  the  Bible  as  a  text 
book  in  the  public  schools !  She  meant  to  work  for  these 
things,  but  the  task  seemed  very  great. 

Great  thoughts  swelled  the  soul  of  this  noble  girl,  but 
as  yet  they  were  nothing  but  thoughts.  A  trip  to  Europe, 
even  though  it  were  in  the  capacity  of  waiting-maid  to  a 
daughter  of  wealth,  must  afford  her  some  knowledge  of 
the  world  and  things  in  general,  and  she  therefore  hailed 
its  advent  with  joy. 

It  was  the  day  before  their  departure,  and  Marie  had 
invited  a  few  of  the  elite  of  her  friends  to  dine  with  her 
before  they  went.  Ruth  was  servinjg  at  the  table  with 


38  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

that  sweet  dignity  so  characteristic  of  herself  which  had 
won  for  her  such  admiration  from  the  working  girls  as 
well  as  from  the  people  at  large.  It  had  long  been  un 
derstood  between  mistress  and  maid  that  Ruth  would 
not  taste  wine  nor  in  any  way  assist  in  serving  it  to  others. 
But  it  so  chanced  on  this  occasion  that  Minetta,  the  col 
ored  waitress,  was  called  aside  and  Marie  had  occasion 
to  ask  Ruth  to  refill  the  glass  of  one  of  her  guests.  She 
heard  the  request,  but  with  gentle  firmness  refused  to 
serve,  and  stood  by  her  mistress'  chair  awaiting  the  result 
of  her  refusal.  Marie  bit  her  lip  in  rage  and  again  re 
peated  the  request,  but  the  girl  stood  firm,  uttering  not  a. 
word. 

At  length  Marie  exclaimed :  "Ruth,  I  command  you  to 
serve  my  guest  with  wine!"  Every  eye  was  upon  her. 
This  was  a  trying  moment  for  the  girl  whose  sense  of 
obedience  to  her  calling  was  great.  But  a  principle  tow 
ered  up  above  her,  and  she  gently  but  firmly  replied: 
"Miss  Earnestine,  as  my  mother  lay  upon  her  bed  dying, 
I  gave  her  my  pledge  that  I  would  not  touch  or  taste  wine 
in  any  form,  nor  in  any  case  be  the  means  of  giving  it  to 
others,  and  that  with  all  the  strength  of  my  being  I  would 
work  to  put  away  the  custom  of  social  drinking  among 
women  and  men.  I  am  sorry  to  appear  so  seemingly  re 
miss  in  your  sight,,  but  my  promise  to  my  dying  mother, 
who  even  now  is  looking  down  upon  me  from  her  home 
in  Heaven,  is  greater  than  your  command." 

Marie  gave  the  bell  a  vigorous  ring  for  Minetta  and 
at  the  same  time  said  to  Ruth:  "You  may  go  to  your 
room.  I  will  speak  to  you  later."  Minetta  came,  but 
the  young  lady  had  turned  her  glass  upside  down  and 
the  other  guests  had  put  their  glasses  aside,  thus  signify 
ing  their  approval  of  the  noble  act  on  the  part  of  Ruth. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  passed  pleasantly,  and  when 


RUTH'S  REFUSAL  TO  SERVE  WINE.  39 

at  a  late  hour  Marie  found  herself  at  liberty,  she  came 
directly  to  Ruth  with  a  biting  reproof  for  her  stubborn 
ness,  as  she  termed  it,  saying:  "I  ought  to  discharge 
you  for  your  insolence  and  thus  take  from  you  the  pleas 
ure  of  going  abroad." 

"You  have  the  authority,  Miss  Earnestine,"  said  Ruth ; 
"but  principle  is  more  to  me  than  the  pleasure  of  a  trip  to 
Europe.  I  am  willing  to  serve  you  in  all  ways  honora 
ble,  but  you  know,  Miss  Earnestine,  there  is  dishonor  in 
the  wine-cup  and  ofttimes  disgrace.  My  father,  who 
broke  my  mother's  heart  and  brought  her  to  an  untimely 
end,  and  himself  went  down  to  a  drunkard's  grave,  began 
his  downward  career  with  a  social  glass  of  wine;  and 
just  so  long  as  God  gives  me  power  to  speak,  or  think, 
or  act,  I  shall  fight  this  evil  and  work  to  free  our  country 
from  its  curse.  And  oh,  Miss  Earnestine!  it  is  painful 
to  me  to  see  young  girls  putting  to  their  lips  that  poison 
that  has  wrecked  so  many  lives.  You  know  that  the  con- 
vergency  of  the  custom  always  tends  to  a  point  of 
destruction." 

Marie  was  exceedingly  nettled  at  the  girl's  words  and 
would  have,  like  many  another,  argued  destructively  to 
temperance  had  she  a  shadow  of  reason  to  show  that  she 
was  in  the  right.  But  knowing  in  her  heart  that  she  was 
wrong,  and  not  willing  to  yield  her  point,  she  turned  to 
leave  the  room,  ejaculating  as  she  went:  "You  are  the 
worst  crank  of  the  age.  Why  can't  you  be  like  other 
people?" 

Closing  the  door  with  a  bang,  Ruth  heard  her  enter 
her  own  room,  where  she  presently  joined  to  perform  her 
accustomed  duties  to  this  proud,  willful  young  woman 
who  had  set  her  face  in  the  direction  of  ruin.  When 
Marie  was  cosily  tucked  in  bed,  Ruth  came  and  sat  down 
by  her  side.  Taking  her  little  white  hand,  now  shorn  of 


40  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

its  jewels,  in  her  own,  she  said:  "Dear  Miss  Earnestine, 
I  have  been  with  you  long  and  do  most  truly  love  you. 
On  this  account  any  harm  that  could  come  to  you 
would  be  a  source  of  much  grief  to  me.  I  am  really 
troubled  when  I  think  of  you  as  a  wine  drinker,  and  I 
want  to  ask  you  once  more  to  promise  me  that  you  will 
never  put  the  cup  to  your  lips  again.  Promise  me  that 
you  will  not  offer  it  to  your  guests.  I  request  this  be 
cause  I  really  feel  that  you  are  in  danger  when  using  it 
so  frequently  as  you  do,  and  besides,  your  influence  must 
tend  to  lead  your  associates  downward  instead  of  to  a 
better  life." 

This  gentle  appeal  was  like  "casting  pearls  before 
swine,"  for  immediately  her  hand  was  withdrawn  and 
Ruth  rudely  ordered  from  the  room.  Brushing  a  tear 
from  her  eye,  Ruth  arose  to  go,  but  ventured,  as  she 
moved  away,  to  say:  "I  can  not  help  but  pray  for  you,  Miss 
Earnestine,  for  I  know  if  you  still  pursue  this  course  that 
sooner  or  later  you  or  yours  will  be  brought  to  grief. 
I  therefore  beg  you  to  heed  my  warning  and  put  the 
cup  away." 

Marie's  head,  which  was  tortured  with  crimping-pins, 
was  lowered  quietly  into  the  downy  pillows,  and  as  she 
did  so  she  said:  "Go  'way,  bugbear.  The  Earnestines 
have  drunk  wine  for  too  many  generations  to  be  fright 
ened  out  of  their  beverage  by  such  senseless  temperance 
babble.  Good-night." 


AT    THE    WHARF. 


CHAPTER  V. 

EN  ROUTE  TO  EUROPE. 

The  sun  hung  calmly  out  in  ether,  and  San  Francisco 
Bay  was  as  placid  as  a  brooklet  that  morning  in  which 
the  Earnestine  party  came  on  board.  The  great  steamship 
Oceanica  loosed  her  moorings  and  sailed  out  upon  the 
waters  of  the  Pacific,  en  route  for  New  York  City  and 
the  Old  World. 

This  was  a  happy  day  for  Marie,  and  a  pleasant  com 
pany  they  were,  too,  as  they  all  stood  upon  the  deck 
waving  their  kerchiefs  to  the  many  friends  gathered  there 
saying  their  farewells  and  bidding  the  voyagers  "God 
speed"  on  their  journey  and  a  safe  return  home  again. 

Back  from  the  group  a  pace  stood  Ruth,  buoyant,  full 
of  hope  and  anticipation  in  the  voyage  which  she  felt 
was  to  bring  her  into  a  more  direct  touch  with  the  world 
that  she  was  longing  to  know.  Upon  the  shore  she  could 
see  the  whole  galaxy  of  servants  from  the  mansion  look 
ing  after  her,  whom  they  had  all  learned  to  love,  and 
making  such  gestures  as  only  she  could  understand. 
Among  the  rest  was  old  Jerry,  upon  whose  head  was  a 
crown  of  many  winters.  Leaning  upon  his  staff,  he 
looked  his  reverence  and  waved  good-bye  to  the  girl  that 
had  thrown  so  much  brightness  into  his  lonely  life  during 
the  past  five  years.  Tenderly  he  had  pressed  her  hand 
at  parting  and  said:  "Miss  Ruth,  I  bes  sorry  ter  part 
with  ye,  for  long  afore  you  return  old  Jerry's  head  will 
be  a  restin'  under  the  sod  out  ter  Lone  Mountain.  But 
I  want  ter  tell  ye,  me  gurl — for  I  tho't  maybe  yc'd  be 
happy  to  know  it  an'  sorter  comfortin'  ter  yer  lovin'  heart 


44  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

• — as  how  yer  gentle  teachin'  has  shown  me  the  way  to  the 
Savior.  An'  Ruthie,  if  we  hain't  privileged  to  meet  here 
no  more,  then,  me  gurl,  look  out  fer  me;  I'll  meet  ye 
in  Heaven!  Glory  to  God!  Ruthie,  I've  got  a  home  up 
there!" 

Ruth's  eyes  had  glistened  with  tears  of  joy  as  she  listened 
to  the  gool  old  man's  words,  and  she  said:  "God  grant, 
dear  Jerry,  that  we  may  meet  in  that  joyous  city.  Pray 
for  me  that  I  may  while  here  be  the  means  of  bringing 
many  to  that  gentle  Savior  for  whom  you  testify.  My 
desire  that  my  influence  may  ever  be  wielded  on  the  side 
of  right  and  that  many  may  be  won  to  righteousness." 
And  now,  as  she  stood  looking  at  him  out  on  the  dock 
and  noted  how  feebly  he  tottered  upon  his  staff,  she  re 
membered  his  many  kind  deeds  and  his  parental  watch 
fulness  over  her.  She  thought  how  oft  and  repeatedly  he 
had  saved  her  from  unpleasant  interviews  with  Harry 
Rumsford  by  coming  so  opportunely  to  her  rescue.  She 
felt  her  heart  o'erflowing  with  a  spirit  of  tenderness  for 
the  old  man  who  was  so  near  his  journey's  end,  and  she 
prayed  that  God  would  freight  his  last  days  with  multi 
plied  blessings  from  above  and  make  them  his  best  days 
upon  earth. 

The  ship  was  now  well  out  at  sea.  Music,  dancing  and 
merry-making  were  the  order  of  the  hour  among  the  pas 
sengers  on  board. 

Marie,  the  heiress,  much  sought,  was  highly  delighted 
with  the  voyage.  One  evening  just  as  the  sun  was  set 
ting  like  a  great  fiery  ball  upon  the  face  of  the  deep,  a 
group  of  merry  young  people  sauntered  out  upon  the 
deck.  Here  and  there  a  sea-gull  could  be  seen  fluttering 
low,  and  all  the  time  the  great  steamship  plowed  on 
through  the  deep  rolling  waters  of  the  sea.  Marie  stood 
looking  westward.  A  yellow  glow  of  sunlight  rested 


EN  ROUTE  TO  EUROPE.  45 

upon  her  cheek,  lighting  up  her  countenance  in  a  glow 
Ruth  had  never  seen  before.  For  a  moment  Ruth  saw 
in  the  depth  of  the  woman's  heart,  and  there  read,  for 
the  first  time,  tenderness,  sympathy,  and  love  for  human 
kind.  Marie,  who  had  ever  been  cold,  and  at  times  even 
heartless!  Could  it  be,  after  all,  that  this  girl  possessed 
a  spirit  of  love?  And  if  so,  who  had  awakened  this  spirit 
to  life?  Ruth  studied  her  face  carefully,  and  then  for 
very  joy  at  the  revelation  forgot  the  time  and  place,  for 
got  that  she  was  maid,  and  threw  her  arms  about  her 
mistress,  exclaiming:  "Ah,  my  love,  I  have  seen  into 
your  heart  at  last.  Truly  you  are  beautiful  to-night. 
Tell  me,  what  was  the  gentle  spirit  which  illuminated  your 
soul  just  now?  Is  it  Cupid's  dart  that  has  kindled  the 
flame,  or  was  it  love  for  humanity,  or  love  for  even  me?" 
For  an  instant  only  Marie  yielded  to  her  embrace,  and 
then  as  if  remembering  her  station  and  that  she  must 
maintain  dignity  in  the  presence  of  others,  she  broke  the 
clasp  of  Ruth's  arms  and  said:  "Why,  what  have  you 
found  in  me  different  than  that  you  have  seen  before? 
How  came  you  to  be  so  glad?" 

Ere  Ruth  had  time  to  answer  Earnest  Stocklaid  came 
up.  He,  too,  was  on  his  way  to  Germany  and  was  about 
to  enter  the  same  school  as  Miss  Earnestine.  For  the 
first  time  since  that  day  when  Marie  had  tried  to  introduce 
Ruth  to  Harry  Rumsford  had  she  presented  her  to  any 
young  man.  This  time  she  did  not  even  say,  "My  wait 
ing  maid." 

Ruth  gently  acknowledged  the  courtesy.  The  young 
man  had  something  to  say  to  Marie,  so  she,  after  a  little, 
fell  back  from  the  company  to  digest  a  new  thought 
which,  prompted  by  his  presence,  had  just  flitted  across 
her  mind.  Who  was  Earnest  Stocklaid?  And  why  this 
gracious  courtesy  on  the  part  of  Miss  Earnestine?  Had 


46  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

a  new  spirit  been  breathed  into  the  girl,  or  was  it  a  dor 
mant  one  that  had  been  awakened  into  life?  Surely 
some  power  was  working  in  her  to  make  her  face  glow 
like  that!  And  if  so,  was  Earnest  Stocklaid  the  one  who 
had  called  it  forth?  The  time  seemed  propitious.  Ruth 
truly  hoped  that  the  day  had  come  when  the  character 
upon  which  she  had  been  working  would  put  forth  some 
higher  developments  in  the  line  of  true  womanhood. 

The  music  had  begun  and  the  young  people  went  be 
low  to  participate  in  the  dance,  over  which  some  seemed 
never  to  grow  weary.  Ruth  turned  and  went  below  to 
her  stateroom,  for  she  did  not  care  to  enter  into  their 
merriment.  Not  that  she  was  too  old;  not  that  she  be 
lieved  dancing  a  sin;  but  life  was  too  heavy  with  meaning. 
So  while  others  were  merry  and  gay  Ruth  Mansfield  was 
looking  at  the  practical  side  of  life.  Each  golden  mo 
ment  was  replete  with  some  noble  thought  or  deed  care 
fully  and  quietly  done. 

This  evening  as  she  sat  alone  she  was  meditating  upon 
her  life  of  action  in  the  world  and  wondered  what  she 
could  do  to  get  most  out  of  life  by  way  of  education  and 
of  good,  both  to  herself  and  to  others.  "Oh !"  she  thought, 
"if  I  could  only  enter  school  with  Marie,  or  have  the  means 
to  employ  a  private  instructor,  what  a  comfort  it  would 
be!"  And  then  she  meditated  upon  her  position  and 
wondered  what  she  might  do  to  get  money  to  help  along 
her  own  advancement.  She  pondered  the  question  long 
and  earnestly  and  wished  for  gold.  Unconsciously  she 
took  up  her  pen  and  began  to  write.  Somehow  the  words 
flowed  from  her  pen's  tip  like  the  essence  of  dew  until 
page  after  page  lay  in  confusion  before  her.  She  paused, 
for  this  was  a  new  freak — if  indeed  she  could  be  said  to 
be  one  possessed  of  freaks — for  she  had  never  before  in 
all  her  life  written  so  many  pages  at  one  time. 


WHAT    TO    READ. 


EN  ROUTE  TO  EUROPE.  49 

Laughing  merrily,  as  though  she  were  in  the  pres 
ence  of  companions,  she  gathered  up  her  effort  and  began 
to  read.  Ah!  Suddenly  she  paused;  what  was  this  she 
had  done?  She  read  once  more.  She  grew  crimson  and 
then  the  roses  faded  again,  leaving  her  pale  and  weak 
as  eager  desire  took  possession  of  her  soul.  She  finished 
reading  the  manuscript  and  then  rose  to  her  feet  and 
paced  slowly  up  and  down  her  stateroom.  At  length  she 
came  back,  took  up  the  paper  again  and  read  it  the  sec 
ond  time.  This  time  she  folded  it  carefully,  addressed  it 
to  an  American  magazine,  and  stamped  it  for  the  post. 

And  then,  like  a  child  caressing  its  first  dolly,  Ruth 
tenderly  held  the  package  and  her  lips  moved  in  prayer. 
"Dear  Lord,"  she  prayed  in  simple,  childish  accents, 
"bless  and  preserve  this,  my  first  literary  effort,  that  I  may 
have  courage  to  write  again."  Placing  a  seal  upon  it 
with  her  lips,  she  consigned  it  to  the  mail-bag,  and  on  the 
following  day  it  was  placed  upon  a  passing  ship  bound 
for  America. 

"Would  it  find  favor  in  the  sight  of  an  American  pub 
lisher?  Ah,  who  could  tell?"  she  prayed,  but  time  only 
could  bring  the  message  of  its  acceptance  or  rejection. 

Brave,  sweet  Ruth!  may  "pity  and  tenderness,"  which 
are  emblematic  of  thy  beautiful  name,  move  the  world  for 
thee,  even  as  thy  heart  is  moved  for  huamnity. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

RUTH'S   FIRST   LESSON   IN   PNEUMATOLOGY. 

Ruth  arose  early  the  following  morning  and  went  out 
upon  deck  to  see  the  sun  rise.  Standing  there,  lean 
ing  against  the  ship's  rail,  gazing  eastward,  she  caught 
the  first  faint  peep  of  the  beautiful  sun  as  it  rose  slowly 
above  the  horizon.  The  wild  billows  of  the  sea  surged 
hither  and  thither,  while  the  mad  spray  leaped  upward 
and  dash  forward  as  if  to  embrace  the  first  ray  of  morn 
ing.  Its  song  of  unrest  and  wakeful  melody  which  has 
not  ceased  for  the  past  six  thousand  years  was  still  being 
sung. 

It  was  a  perfect  dawn,  and  Ruth,  so  buoyant  with  life 
and  hope,  was  delighted  with  the  scene.  Every  nerve 
in  her  being,  from  the  crown  of  her  head  to  the  end  of  her 
finger  tips,  was  throbbing  with  pleasure  as  she  gazed  upon 
the  wondrous  beauty  before  her.  Somehow  her  soul  had 
so  longed  for  this  pleasure  which  it  now  felt  that  her  feel 
ings  were  indescribable. 

To  stand  out  there  at  mid-sea,  with  the  restless  turbu 
lence  of  the  ocean  beneath  and  the  great  canopy  of 
Heaven  spread  out  above,  was,  to  her  entranced  soul,  like 
letting  go  of  mortality  and  resting  in  the  grand  freedom 
of  God's  almighty  embrace.  To  see  the  first  faint  smile 
of  day  out  there  upon  the  deep,  and  to  realize  in  it  the 
steadfastness  and  undying  love  of  the  Almighty,  was,  to 
her,  one  of  the  few  joys  of  a  lifetime. 

As  yet  Ruth  had  never  conjectured  about  the  soul.  She 
always  felt  that  Heaven  must  be  one  of  God's  most  blessed 
thinking  grounds,  yet  the  visible  here  and  now  was  of 


52  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

the  most  vital  importance;  and  yet  she  had  never  taken 
time  to  theorize  on  spiritual  existences.  Her  battle  was 
with  the  seen  rather  than  the  unseen  things  of  the  world. 

Now,  however,  at  this  moment,  her  mind  reverted  to  the 
unseen,  and  her  spirit  went  out  in  quest  of  that  One  who 
could  thus  spread  out  before  the  world  such  a  wonderful 
vision  as  her  eyes  now  beheld.  Where  was  He?  What 
was  He?  And  to  what  depths  and  heights  must  she  at 
tain  to  enter  into  a  oneness  with  Him?  And  there,  from 
the  ship's  deck,  her  spirit  took  a  flight  out  into  space 
searching  for  the  dwelling  place  of  the  Creator  who  could 
bring  us  this  grandeur  and  sublimity. 

As  in  a  dream,  she  went  through  myriads  of  starry  orbs, 
she  traveled  into  fathomless  space,  and  with  the  rapidity 
of  thought  eagerly  tried  to  locate  the  Deity,  the  Creator 
of  all  existence. 

I'ut  soon  her  soul  ceased  from  its  travel,  and  the  light — 
the  unseen  intelligence  of  God — came  in  to  illuminate 
reason,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  realized  that 
she  was  dwelling  within  the  orbit  of  God's  love,  and  that 
"the  kingdom  of  Heaven  was  within  her."  Surely  God 
was  with  the  works  of  his  hands,  and  therefore  possessed 
the  right-of-way  in  every  human  heart  which  he  had  cre 
ated.  Thus  man's  coequality  with  the  Creator  in  all 
wisdom  and  love.  But  what  of  evil?  If  God  dwelt  in 
the  heart  of  all  His  creatures  was  He,  then,  the  author 
of  evil? 

Earnestly  this  eager  soul  strove  to  peer  into  the  unseen ; 
to  rise  to  that  eminence  where  she  could  comprehend  God 
and  get  the  solution  of  sin  in  the  heart  of  man.  Imme 
diately,  as  by  vision,  the  whole  creation  of  God  appeared 
before  her  spirit's  eye,  co-ordinate  in  intelligence  with  its 
Creator;  which  Creator,  upon  close  inspection,  she  found 
to  be  revealed  in  three  parts,  all  of  which  were  closely 


LESSON  IN  PNEUMATOLOGY.  53 

blended  into  one  whole — the  physical,  the  intellectual, 
and  the  spiritual ;  God  all  in  all.  The  earth,  the  sea,  and 
every  atom  of  matter  in  the  existing  universe  were  indeed 
the  physical  body  of  the  great  "I  Am." 

Old  Sol,  out  there  with  his  beneficent  rays  of  light  that 
flooded  both  sea  and  land  with  the  glory  of  morning, 
was,  to  her,  the  great  eye  of  the  Almighty.  In  it  she  could 
behold  God's  boundless  and  exhaustless  wisdom.  In  it 
she  could  see  intelligence  divine. 

The  throbbing  of  the  sea,  the  breeze  kissing  her  blush 
ing  cheek,  which  was  being  wafted  from .  tropic  to 
zone,  the  life  of  the  tiniest  flowerlet,  even  the  beating 
of  her  own  heart,  all  told  of  the  wonderful  spirit  of  life 
which  is  God. 

In  spirit  she  saw  Him,  immense,  wonderful,  too  great 
for  the  comprehension  of  a  weak  human  brain,  as  his 
three  magnificent  parts  were  being  blended  into  one  beau 
tiful  and  perfect  whole.  Then  she  took  man  and  placed 
him  beside  his  Creator — physical  man,  intellectual  man, 
and  spiritual  man.  Yes,  the  creature  bore  direct  sem 
blance  to  its  Creator,  and  God  most  truly  was  its  author. 
In  the  beginning  man  was  created  perfect  in  all  his  parts. 
How  was  it  in  this  degenerate  world  that  that  perfect  crea 
ture  of  God  had  lost  his  blending  and  taken  into  his  being 
sin,  which,  indeed,  is  spiritual  death? 

Reason  being  quickened  by  the  inspiration  of  that 
Divine  One,  the  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  her.  And 
Ruth  could  see  that  in  all  reason  God  was  equal  in  all  his 
parts,  harmoniously  blending  and  interblending  with  him 
self.  Hence,  there  could  be  no  discord  in  the  correct  ex 
istence  of  a  Creator.  But  man  had  fallen,  and  in  his 
descent  struck  upon  the  discord  of  the  kingdom  of  dark 
ness.  And  Hate  had  entered  wherein  Love  should  dwell. 

She  calmly  looked  over  the  human  race  and  weighed 


54  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

man  in  the  balance  with  Him  in  whose  image  man  was 
created.  What  a  disparity!  And  how  far  short  he  has 
fallen  of  the  image  of  Him  in  whose  likeness  he  was 
made! 

Here,  she  found  one  with  an  immense  physical  and 
intellectual  being,  while  the  spiritual  was  dwarfed  and 
puny,  and  in  the  place  where  a  spirit  of  love  should  flame 
forth  in  great  power  to  blend  harmoniously  with  the 
physical  and  intellectual,  she  found  hate,  which  is  directly 
the  opposite  of  God.  Another,  with  an  immense  intel 
lect,  with  a  feeble  physical  and  spiritual  being.  And  yet 
another,  with  great  spirituality,  but  lacking  in  intellect  and 
physical  force.  No  wonder  that  the  human  race  were 
writhing  upon  the  torture  rack !  No  wonder  that  the 
machinery  of  life  was  out  of  gear  and  the  collateral  re 
lationship  of  man  becoming  more  and  more  degenerate, 
while  the  whole  human  family  were  becoming  weaker 
and  more  inanimate  with  such  an  unequal  blending  of 
the  three  magnificent  parts  of  God!  Was  the  Creator 
to  blame  for  the  condition  of  the  children  of  men?  Ah, 
no!  It  was  man's  own  inconsistency  that  had  caused 
this  state  of  things  upon  the  earth  and  shut  him  out  of 
harmony  with  his  Maker  and  Creator. 

Directly  her  mind  reverted  to  the  labor  question,  and 
she  wondered  if  these  great  truths  that  had  just  dawned 
upon  her  pertaining  to  God  and  man  could  be  applied 
to  the  present  issues  between  man  and  fnan.  "Most  sure 
ly,"  she  meditated,  "God's  natural  and  divine  laws  are 
one,  and  the  same  law  that  governs  creation  also  governs 
that  which  is  created." 

Directly  Capital  and  Labor  stood  before  her  to  be 
judged  as  man  had  been.  Yes,  true  to  the  law  of  God, 
she  found  that  the  workingman's  difficulty  with  Capital 
had  all  been  brought  about  because  of  inequality  in  the 


LESSON  IN  PNEUMATOLOGY.  55 

interblending  of  the  rights  of  men.  Avarice  and  greed 
developed  in  Capital  a  moral  monstrosity;  while  the 
physical  being,  rightly  interpreted,  is  the  brawn  of  man 
hood;  and  the  spiritual,  which  means  justice  and  equality 
to  all  men,  is  excluded  from  the  body  politic,  the  natural 
result  of  which  means  death  to  progress  and  freedom. 
This  was  Ruth's  first  lesson  in  pneumatology,  and  as  she 
took  her  eye  off  from  the  beneficent  display  of  God's 
handiwork,  as  his  beautiful  sun  lighted  all  the  world  with 
glory,  and  went  to  her  duties  below,  she  was  trying  to  set 
in  order  the  lesson  that  she  might  give  it  to  poor,  mis 
shapen  society,  the  world. 

Rapping  at  Marie's  door,  she  found  "my  lady"  already 
dressed  for  the  breakfast  room.  Passing  below,  they  met 
with  a  cheery  "Good-morning"  from  the  captain  and  a 
pleasant  nod  from  the  passengers  one  and  all  on  board. 

Soon  as  all  were  seated  at  the  table,  the  merry  captain 
of  the  ship  informed  the  company  that  ere  the  setting  of 
the  sun  the  ship  would  drop  anchor  in  a  German  port.  At 
this  Ruth's  heart  leaped  with  gladness,  for  she  was  weary 
with  the  many  days  at  sea  and  longed  to  be  where  she 
could  once  more  look  upon  calm,  quiet  nature,  so  much 
more  beautiful  to  her  than  the  turbulent  surging  of  the 
ocean  waves. 

It  was  vesper-time  and  the  bells  were  pealing  out  the 
hour  for  worship  just  as  the  ship  drew  into  harbor  and  the 
weary  passengers  put  foot  upon  German  soil.  Ruth  was 
all  alert  to  catch  the  foreign  accent  and  hear  the  friendly 
greeting.  She  was  much  amused  to  hear  the  German 
handled  so  skillfully,  and  was  immediately  provoked  to 
merriment  as  she  heard  a  sweet-faced  woman  of  the  Ger 
man  peasantry  (who  was  carrying  a  basket  of  apples  upon 
her  head)  exclaim  to  her  fellows:  "Mein  Gott!  Sehe 
doch  diesses  madchen  von  Amerika;  sie  ist  eben  so  gut 


56  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

gekleitet  wie  meine  madam."  Until  this  moment  Ruth 
had  not  given  any  thought  to  her  personal  appearance, 
nor  paused  to  think  that  she  was  indeed  dressed  quite 
as  elegant  as  Miss  Earnestine,  save  her  jewels.  But  now 
the  thought  flashed  across  her  mind  that,  for  most  part, 
the  American  wage-earner  was  a  capitalist  in  his  own 
right  and  the  freest  people  upon  the  face  of  the  earth 
compared  to  the  downtrodden  poor  of  other  lands. 

Marie's  ear  had  also  caught  the  idiom  of  the  peasant 
woman,  and,  being  conversant  with  the  German,  had 
understood  its  full  import;  while  Ruth  had  only  a  smat 
tering  of  the  language  and  had  had  to  guess  at  a  part 
of  the  sentence. 

Marie  turned  to  her  maid  and  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life  cracked  a  joke  at  her,  saying:  "I  declare,  Ruth,  you 
are  gotten  up  more  elegantly  than  I,  and  your  coiffure 
is  even  more  becoming.  I  think,  my  dear,  you  will  have 
to  comb  your  hair  down  over  your  ears  while  we  are 
in  Deutchland  in  order  to  dignify  the  appearance  of  your 
mistress." 

Ruth's  eyes  twinkled  with  merriment  and  she  replied: 
"There  will  be  no  occasion,  Miss  Earnestine,  for  you  are 
improving  so  wondrously  on  this  journey  that  ere  long 
the  effulgence  of  your  beauty  will  quite  surpass  the  charms 
of  your  maid." 

They  were  now  comfortably  located  at  the  hotel  at 
Baden  Baden.  The  whole  party  had  decided  to  remain 
together,  visiting  the  principal  cities  the  first  few  weeks, 
ere  the  time  should  come  for  Marie  to  enter  her  school. 
A  very  agreeable  arrangement  to  the  young  people,  who 
had  been  so  congenial  to  each  other  ever  since  thy  left 
San  Francisco. 

It  so  chanced  one  evening,  where  they  had  tarried  long 
at  dinner  and  were  merry — Marie  in  perfect  glee — that 


LESSON  IN  PNEUMATOLOGY.  5} 

Ruth  caught  her  words  just  as  she  was  saying  to  the 
young  man  at  her  side,  who  seemed  to  be  greatly  infatu 
ated  by  her  wiles,  "Oh,  fie!  Earnest,  I  do  not  believe  in 
pledges.  According  to  my  estimation,  a  fellow  that  must 
be  obligated  by  a  pledge  to  keep  from  taking  a  sip  of 
wine  is  a  coward,  and  is  unworthy  any  lady's  attention. 
Come  now,"  she  said,  "be  manly  and  drink  to  my  health 
here  in  this  far-off  Germany."  Earnest  Stocklaid  turned 
pale  with  emotion  and  he  said:  "Don't  tempt  me,  Miss 
Earnestine,  it  was  my  last  promise  to  my  mother  before 
I  left  America  that  I  would  not  put  the  cup  to  my  lips 
while  abroad."  Marie's  reply  was  a  heartless  sneer,  and 
she  haughtily  turned  her  back  upon  the  young  man 
whom  she  was  tempting.  An  instant  only  did  Earnest 
Stocklaid  waver,  and  then  said:  "Miss  Earnestine,  give 
me  the  glass:  I  can  not  bear  your  scorn."  Exultantly  she 
laughed,  while  with  her  jeweled  hand  she  pressed  the 
cup  to  his  lips  and  lightly  whispered  some  witticism  with 
in  his  ear.  As  her  breath  swept  over  his  cheek  a  rubi 
cund  tinge  crept  over  his  lips  and  brow,  and  one  could 
see  that  the  man's  will  \vas  swept  away  by  a  woman's 
wiles.  Arising  from  the  table,  she  leaned  heavily  upon 
Ruth's  arm  and  with  unsteady  step  was  led  away  to  her 
room  to  dress  for  the  evening  ball.  As  they  passed  out 
Ruth  glanced  back  over  her  shoulder  at  young  Stock- 
laid.  She  fancied  she  could  see  a  look  of  sadness  resting 
upon  his  countenance  like  one  humiliated.  Manhood 
had  gone  out  to  embrace  wantonness  and  sin.  When 
once  in  the  seclusion  of  their  room,  Ruth  took  a  seat  by 
Marie's  side  and  said:  "Oh,  Miss  Earnestine!  what  an 
awful  thing  you  have  done!  If  that  young  man  whom 
you  have  just  now  tempted,  and  who  has  yielded  to  your 
wiles,  should  fall  and  become  a  drunkard,  surely  'his 
blood  will  be  upon  your  head/  If  such  a  thing  should 


58  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

ever  come  to  pass  that  he  is  lost  through  drink,  I  would 
not  stand  in  your  place.  No!  not  for  a  million  worlds! 
You  shall  stand  at  the  judgment  to  answer  for  what  you 
have  done  to-night."  And  then,  falling  upon  her  knees 
at  Mane's  feet,  she  plead:  "Dear  Miss  Earnestine,  prom 
ise  me  that  you  will  not  drink  another  drop  of  wine,  any 
way  until  you  return  to  America." 

Marie's  scornful  glance  fell  upon  the  kneeling  figure 
at  her  feet,  dark  and  evil,  then  putting  her  dainty  foot 
against  the  girl,  replied:  "Ruth,  how  absurd  you  are! 
Just  as  though  a  little  wine  could  hurt  one  or  make  one 
a  drunkard,  even!  Why,  this  wine  we  were  drinking  just 
now  came  from  our  own  winery  in  far  off  California,  and 
I  know  it  is  pure,  exhilarating  and  will  do  one  good. 
How  silly  of  you  to  make  such  a  fuss  about  a  little  matter! 
Just  as  though  one  could  become  a  drunkard  from  drink 
ing  wine!"  Ruth  had  risen  to  her  feet  and  stood  with 
clasped  hands  while  she  listened  to  the  unschooled  words 
of  the  poor,  misguided  girl  and  wondered  what  argument 
she  could  use  that  would  convince  her  of  the  actual  truth. 
She  halted,  then  said:  "It  may  be  pure  wine,  Miss  Earn 
estine,  but  it  can  never  be  harmless.  No !  not  so  long  'as 
it  giveth  his  color  in  the  cup;  when  it  moveth  itself  aright; 
for  at  last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent  and  stingeth  like  an 
adder.'  I  tell  you,  dear,  there  is  danger  in  the  cup.  Many 
nobler  souls  than  yourself,  or  that  young  man,  have  fallen 
to  the  gutter  who  began  with  the  wine  cup." 

Marie  laughed  scornfully  and  then  contemptuously  re 
plied:  "Ruth,  you  are  a  bore  to  me  about  this  wine  ques 
tion,  and  you  must  not  mention  it  again  to  me.  Come 
now,  the  hour  is  passing;  hasten  and  dress  me  for  the 
party  or  this  German  folk  will  think  me  amiss  in  coming 
late  to  their  tanzen." 

Ruth's  grief  was  plainly  visible  as  she  turned  away. 


LESSON  IN   PNEUMATOLOGY.  59 

Even  Marie  *was  touched  by  her  sorrowful  look,  and 
jocosely  said:  "Come  now,  my  good  maid,  don't  look  so 
grief-stricken  over  my  sins,  but  give  me  your  pledge 
not  to  mention  temperance  or  labor  again  until  we  return 
to  our  far-off  America.  Be  a  sensible  girl  and  give  me 
your  promise." 

"No,"  said  Ruth,  "I  will  not  promise  you.  If  the  ad 
vocating  of  temperance  and  humane  principles  lead  my 
fellow-beings  down  to  death  and  ruin,  if  it  wrecked  homes, 
and  made  monopolies  in  the  world,  then  I  would  chain 
my  tongue,  but  not  now." 

My  dear  girls,  you  who  are  treading  the  same  pathway 
that  Marie  trod,  think  wisely  before  you  put  the  cup  to 
your  lips  or  offer  it  to  another.  For  I  tell  you  true,  it  is 
the  pathway  to  ruin  and  shame,  and  your  own  eternal 
happiness  depends  upon  your  abstinence,  as  well  as  that 
of  your  loved  ones.  You  may  be  as  Marie  was,  a  petted 
daughter  of  wealth  and  a  leader  in  high  society;  you 
may  belong  to  the  world  and  be  surrounded  by  tempta 
tions  and  sin;  you  may  be  a  shop-girl  or  a  maid-of-all- 
work ;  no  matter  what  your  station  in  life  may  be,  I  raise 
a  warning  ringer  and  tell  you  true  that  perfect  happiness 
was  never  yet  found  in  the  cup  of  wine.  For  a  serpent 
lurketh  there  that  will  turn  your  joy  to  sadness,  rob  you  of 
love  and  plenty,  and  make  you  wretched  all  the  days  oi 
your  life  upon  the  earth.  Hell,  with  all  its  devices  to  cap 
ture  a  human  soul,  has  none  other  so  terrible  and  sure 
as  the  wine  cup. 


EVENING    GAIETY. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  DEUTCHLAND. 

To  use  an  American  expression,  the  Earnestine  party 
were  trying  to  "do  Germany."  With  great  pomp  and 
much  display  of  wealth,  they  had  visited  all  the  principal 
cities,  and  were  seen  of  men  at  least,  if  they  had  not  seen 
Deutchland.  And  Ruth  began  to  feel  that  in  all  her  wait 
ing  upon  Miss  Earnestine  she  had  not  learned  the  art 
until  she  had  come  abroad,  for  so  constantly  was  she  em 
ployed  and  so  menial  were  the  services  Marie  required, 
that  the  dear  girl  began  to  wish  that  she  had  a  nobler  soul 
with  whom  to  deal.  For  Marie's  redounding  spirit  of  exac 
tion  which  Ruth  had  thought  so  improved  was,  in  this  new 
role,  redoubled,  and  her  manner  of  addressing  her  maid 
was  most  exacting.  American  aristocracy,  so  at  variance 
with  the  culture  of  other  countries,  have  yet  to  learn  the 
law  of  gentleness  to  their  inferiors.  England's  Queen, 
or  Lady,  where  blood  draws  the  line  between  the  upper 
and  lower  classes;  Germany,  whose  long  lineage  of 
aristocracy  has  held  a  steadfast  power  over  its  people, 
would  scorn  to  allow  such  biting  words  fall  from  their  lips 
to  their  inferiors.  But  Americans,  who  grow  rich  to-day 
and  are  pauperized  to-morrow,  have  yet  to  learn  that  true 
nobility  is  not  begotten  of  wealth.  There  is,  however,  a 
true  nobility  in  America — a  people  of  the  manner  born — 
who  do  never  so  far  forget  their  own  nobility  and  gentle 
breeding  as  to  lose  sight  of  gentleness  of  spirit  and  pure- 
ness  of  heart;  which  two  virtues,  coupled  with  intelli 
gence,  must  make  any  single  individual  whom  God  has 
made  truly  good. 

But  poor  Marie,  who  was  a  veritable  autocrat  in  her 


62  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

strenuous  efforts  to  make  herself  appear  great  in  the  sight 
of  the  Germans,  more  often  called  forth  their  remarks 
detrimental  to  her  gentle  breeding.  While  Ruth,  not  un 
conscious  that  the  heiress  was  being  measured  by  that 
staid  people,  tried,  with  beautiful  endeavor,  to  honor  her 
countrywomen  by  showing  forth  the  sweet  graces  of  a 
truly  cultured  spirit.  For  so  perfect  had  been  her  train 
ing  during  her  childhood  that  no  matter  what  amount 
of  harshness  was  brought  to  bear  upon  her,  she  never 
for  a  moment  forgot  that  she  had  a  gentle  birthright  and 
a  mother  who  was  a  queen  among  women.  And  while 
enduring  her  many  and  severe  trials  with  Marie,  she 
would  sometimes  say,  when  noting  the  criticisms  of  the 
people,  "Aunt  Langsford  oft-repeated  remark  is  not  true, 
for  there  are  some  places  where  money  will  not  carry  her 
through."  As  well  expect  a  blast  from  an  ice-berg  blow 
ing  upon  a  hot-house  plant  to  unfold  its  petals  in  beauty 
as  such  distant  bearing  to  show  forth  the  culture  of  Ameri 
can  women. 

At  last  the  tour  through  the  German  cities  had  been 
made,  and  the  company  had  come  back  to  Frankfort-on- 
the-Main  to  see  Marie  placed  in  school,  and  from  thence 
their  party  was  to  break  up  and  go  into  their  several  direc 
tions  to  take  in  the  principal  points  in  the  Old  World. 
Aunt  Langsford  had  decided  that  she  would  stay  in  Ger 
many  as  chaperon  and  companion  to  her  niece,  whom 
she  regarded  more  as  a  daughter  than  otherwise,  and 
now  felt  that  she  could  not  be  happy  in  being  separated 
from  her.  Therefore,  at  her  own  suggestion,  a  comforta 
ble  cottage  had  been  selected  in  the  beautiful  city  of 
Frankfort  and  everything  made  cheerful  to  the  idolized 
daughter  of  Judge  Earnestine.  Marie  was  to  spend  her 
mornings  in  the  school,  while  her  afternoons  were  se 
apart  for  her  own  recreation.  This  plan  was  most  agrep 


I*L  -; 


64  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

able  to  Ruth,  who,  knowing  Miss  Earnestine's  habits  so 
well  as  she  did,  felt  that  it  would  not  only  give  her  the 
morning  to  follow  her  own  pursuits,  but  a  part  of  the 
afternoon  also  could  be  devoted  to  her  own  self-culture. 
Already  she  felt  her  spirit  enlarged  from  intercourse  with 
the  world  and  the  daily  contact  with  elements  unusual 
in  her  life  was  proving  to  be  a  wonderful  advantage,  and 
she  fondly  dreamed  of  better  and  richer  things  in  store; 
things  that  would  bring  more  lasting  privileges  than  she 
yet  had  known.  Sitting  one  day  at  her  desk,  she  was 
startled  by  the  postman's  horn.  Arising,  she  went  quick 
ly  to  the  door.  The  good-natured  carrier  greeted  her 
with  a  pleasant  "Good-morning,"  and  said :  "Mein  Liebes 
Fraulein,  unterzeichnen  sie  fur  Ihren  Brief?"  She  wrrote 
her  superscription  on  the  man's  card,  and,  taking  the 
letter  in  her  hand,  tremblingly  hastened  away  to  her  own 
room  and  with  much  eagerness  broke  the  seal  to  read  its 
contents.  To  her  great  surprise  a  bank  note  for  the  sum 
of  one  hundred  dollars  fell  out  upon  her  lap.  Her  eyes 
opened  wide  with  wonderment  as  she  unfolded  the  closely 
written  letter  that  had  accompanied  the  check  to  see  from 
whence  it  came.  It  was  dated  New  York,  and  read  as 
follows: 
"Miss  Ruth  Mansfield: 

"Dear  Young  Lady — Your  manuscript  is  at  hand  and 
most  highly  approved,  for  which  please  find  inclosed  a 
check  as  payment.  Future  efforts  will  be  duly  rewarded 
and  most  cheerfully  received." 

To  say  that  the  girl  was  glad  is  a  feeble  expression  of 
her  delight.  Had  she  fallen  heir  to  a  fortune  she  could 
scarcely  have  experienced  more  joy;  for  in  the  reward 
she  saw  a  due  acknowledgment  of  her  talents,  and  talent 
meant  fortune  and  prosperity.  The  occasion  was  well 
deserving  of  some  demonstration,  but  what  could  she  do 


NOTRE    DAME— PARIS. 


66  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

to  celebrate  the  event?  She  looked  about  to  find  some 
object  upon  which  to  give  noisy  vent  to  the  glad  hurrah 
in  her  heart.  Had  she  been  in  America  she  could  have 
set  the  bells  in  the  cupola  en  the  mansion  Earnestine  off 
in  a  merry  peal,  but  as  it  was  she  could  do  nothing  more 
than  to  seat  herself  at  the  piano-forte  and  play  a  rousing 
"Yankee  Doodle." 

Aunt  Langsford  came  to  see  what  had  awakened  the 
merry  sprite  in  the  spirit  of  sedate  Ruth  Mansfield,  and 
rejoiced  with  her  in  her  new  mine  of  wealth — which  tal 
ent  was  indeed  the  promise  of  a  great  future. 

Donning  a  jaunty  little  bonnet — the  product  of  her  own 
hands — and  buttoning  a  dainty  jacket  about  her,  Ruth 
set  out  in  quest  of  a  tutor.  Aunt  Langsford,  who  had  long 
since  ceased  from  her  dogmatic  ways  and  was  really  a 
true  friend  to  this  irrepressible  piece  of  nobility,  had  to  be 
taken  into  the  secret,  and  Ruth  began  to  study  under  the 
tutorage  of  Professor  Von  Chuberg. 

Few  American  girls  ever  tried  as  Ruth  tried  to  develop 
all  the  faculties  of  their  being.  And  now  when  this,  to 
her,  God-ordained  opportunity  had  opened  up  before 
her,  she  embraced  it  with  that  genuine  spirit  of  satisfac 
tion  which  merited  for  her  the  richest  success. 

Marie  seemed  to  have  entered  into  her  school  with  a 
better  zest  than  anything  that  she  had  ever  before  under 
taken,,  But,  being  deficient  in  the  common  branches  of 
education,  she  often  had  occasion  to  seek  Ruth,  who  was 
ever  willing  to  lend  a  hand  and  help  her  solve  the  simplest 
problems  with  which  she  was  too  proud  to  go  to  her 
regular  teacher.  This,  however,  was  a  pleasure  to  Ruth, 
for  she  realized  the  force  of  application  and  knew  that 
her  own  mind  was  being  enriched  by  what  she  was  able 
to  give  to  another. 

Earnest  Stocklaid  was  also  a  diligent  student  in  the 


r:',*1?' 


, '  II 1  - 


HE    UTTERED    A    CRY. 


68  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

school,  and  had  won  for  himself  much  honor  in  his  class. 
It  had,  however,  been  whispered  in  Ruth's  ear  that  on 
several  occasions  he  had  been  under  the  influence  of  drink 
and  had  made  himself  foolish  to  his  own  hurt  before  his 
fellows. 

Still  he  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  cottage  and  Marie 
seemed  to  have  great  honor  for  the  young  man  and  her 
maid  often  wondered  if  she  were  cognizant  of  the  fact 
of  his  intemperance.  But  if  she  was,  she  wisely  kept 
her  own  counsel  and  Aunt  Langsford  encouraged  their 
friendship,  looking  on  with  approving  smiles,  confidently 
hoping  that  her  niece  would  form  an  attachment  for  the 
brilliant  young  student.  But  so  far  as  Ruth  could  de 
tect  Marie  was  staid  and  dignified  in  his  presence,  never 
giving  token  of  any  stronger  affection  than  a  warm 
friendship  would  warrant,  and  for  the  most  part  she  felt 
that  their  social  intercourse  was  best  for  Marie's  own 
sake.  Her  character,  under  this  association,  had  seemed 
to  take  on  a  sweeter  phase  than  she  had  shown  before 
their  acquaintance.  "At  least,"  Ruth  argued  with  her 
self,  "since  Marie's  association  with  Earnest  Stocklaid 
she  has  developed  more  womanly  graces  than  she  ever 
before  seemed  to  possess,"  and  she,  too,  looked  approving 
ly  upon  their  friendship. 

But  time  was  rapidly  passing  and  the  day  fast  approach 
ing  when  diplomas  would  be  awarded  and  then  the  little 
party  be  free  to  take  a  post-graduate  course  or  return  to 
their  own  native  land.  This  was  pleasing  to  Ruth,  for 
of  late  she  had  been  growing  restless  and  longed  to  once 
more  set  eyes  upon  her  own  dear  America.  Three  years 
in  a  strange  land,  to  one  so  young,  seemed  a  very  great 
while  and  she  felt  that  all  her  life's  work  lay  before  her 
untouched  and  she  yearned  to  arise  and  be  about  her  Mas 
ter's  business. 


I    WILL    NEVER    FORGIVE    YOU. 


•iO  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

The  grand  commencement  day  arrived,  and  the  Ameri 
can  students,  fifteen  in  number,  arranged  for  a  banquet 
to  be  given  in  honor  of  one  who  should  excel  the  rest 
in  scholarship  and  attainments.  Here  the  Jew  and  the 
Gentile,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  were  alike  striving  for  an 
education  and  none  was  more  brilliant  or  gave  greater 
promise  for  the  future  than  Earnest  Stccklaid.  On  this 
day  the  crown  was  to  be  laid  upon  the  heads  of  those  who 
labored  and  achieved  success.  None  seemed  to  reach  the 
high  eminence  at  greater  pace  than  Earnest  Stocklaid. 
He  was  to  deliver  the  closing  oration  and  had  selected  for 
his  subject,  "America's  Freedom."  He  came  before  his 
class  tall  and  manly  in  bearing,  with  a  clear  musical  voice, 
and  delivered  a  most  masterful  address,  which  captivated 
all  hearts.  Even  the  Germans  cried:  "Gut,  Gut,  Vivat 
Hoch  fur  Amerika!"  while  the  Americans  waved  their 
handkerchiefs  and  repeated,  "Long  live  America!" 

Marie's  cheeks  burned  and  her  eyes  sparkled  with  de 
light,  for  she  experienced  all  the  joy  she  could  have  known 
had  it  been  she  herself  that  was  being  honored.  Mr. 
Stocklaid  was  scarcely  seated,  and  the  deafening  applause 
had  not  yet  died  away,  when  a  beautiful  cluster  of  flowers 
was  placed  in  his  hands  with  Marie's  card  attached.  They 
were  bleeding  hearts  set  in  maiden-hair  ferns  and  tied  with 
a  rose-colored  ribbon.  Casting  a  look  of  reverence  upon 
the  emblem,  his  eyes  sought  Marie's  and  he  tenderly 
pressed  the  bouquet  to  his  lips,  thus  expressing  in  his 
admiring  glance  the  gratitude  of  his  heart  for  the  beauti 
ful  thought  thus  shown  him  through  the  presentation  of 
the  token.  Directly,  however,  a  shadow  flitted  over  his 
countenance.  He  was  thinking  of  the  language  of  the 
flower  and  wondered  if  it  had  been  selected  with  any 
thought  as  to  its  meaning,  or  was  it  done  simply  with  an 
eye  to  the  beautiful?  He  stilled  the  throbbing  of  hi? 


72  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

heart  by  persuading  himself  the  latter,  and  at  the  close 
of  the  exercises  came  down  to  Marie's  side  and  begged 
to  attend  her  to  the  banquet. 

Ruth  had  been  entreated  by  her  teacher  to  sing  on 
this  occasion,  but  had  excused  herself  by  saying  she 
much  preferred  to  let  her  voice  be  heard  first  in  her  own 
native  land.  But  she  had  consented  to  attend  the  exer 
cises  with  him  and  afterward  the  banquet,  as  he  was 
to  be  the  guest  of  the  Americans.  The  rich  repast  was 
served  in  regular  American  style,  and  Miss  Earnestine 
presided  over  the  tea,  while  wine  flowed  freely  at  her  re 
quest.  Ruth's  glass,  however,  \vas  turned  upside  down, 
and  out  of  respect  to  his  pupil,  Professor  Von  Chuberg 
did  not  taste  the  beverage  that  night. 

They  dined  long  and  were  merry.  Speech  after 
speech  was  made  in  the  German  and  American  tongues 
and  Earnest  Stocklaid  had  toasted  his  comrades  in  six 
different  languages.  But  by  and  by,  to  the  chagrin  and 
mortification  of  his  fellows — for  "at  the  last  it  biteth  like 
a  serpent  and  stingeth  like  an  adder" — the  young  man's 
head  grew  dizzy  and  carried  him  over  upon  the  floor. 
The  party  broke  up,  and  the  one  upon  whom  the  highest 
honors  had  been  conferred  was  carried  to  his  room  in  a 
disgraceful  state  of  intoxication. 

Later,  when  Ruth  assisted  Marie  to  disrobe,  there  was 
a  sad  look  in  the  young  woman's  face  and  an  occasional 
sigh.  The  tears  would  well  up  in  her  eyes,  and  one  could 
see  that  remorse  was  doing  its  work  in  her  heart.  It  was 
greatly  to  her  own  wonderment,  for  once  in  her  life,  Ruth 
failed  to  deliver  her  temperance  lecture,  as  Marie  had 
termed  it,  for  she  felt  that  silence  was  the  best  medicine 
for  this  sin-sick  heart  and  a  stronger  accuser  than  she  her 
self  could  be.  Thus  ended  her  three  years'  course  at 
Frankfort-on-the-Main. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  LONDON  WORKING  PEOPLE  IN  LINE 

On  the  morrow  Judge  Earnestine  was  expected;  he 
was  coming  to  take  them  for  a  season  to  France  and 
England,  and  from  thence  back  to  their  own  dear  native 
land.  Therefore  all  needed  preparations  were  being  made 
for  the  journey  and  Aunt  Langsford,  generally  so  staid 
and  dignified,  was  flying  around  with  her  false  front  hair 
turned  to  one  side,  and  her  apron  strings  tied  in  fronl. 
Ruth  laughed  and  was  gay,  but  Marie  seemed  to  be  un 
der  a  heavy  cloud,  and  try  as  they  would  they  could  not 
engage  her  in  conversation  nor  bring  her  to  take  any 
interest  in  the  journey  before  them. 

Her  maiden  aunt  really  looked  troubled  and  ventured 
to  hint  that  she  was  grieving  over  leaving  Mr.  Stocklaid 
behind,  which  her  niece  most  vehemently  denied,  saying 
she  should  be  glad  to  put  the  ocean  between  them. 

Aunt  Langsford  smiled  and  concluded  her  words  were 
only  a  phrase  of  maidenly  modesty.  But  Ruth  thought 
"Words  are  cheap  when  a  heart  is  full  of  grief."  She  could 
understand  the  mood  more  clearly  than  the  aunt,  who 
as  yet  did  not  know  the  real  cause  of  Marie's  silence.  As 
soon  as  the  two  were  alone  Ruth,  with  her  warm,  affec 
tionate  nature,  gently  put  her  arms  around  Marie  and 
kissed  her,  whispering  as  she  did  so,  "Never  mind,  dearie, 
all  youthful  clouds,  I  have  been  told,  have  silver  linings, 
and  perhaps  yours  may  be  lined  with  gold.  Just  wait 
until  Judge  Earnestine  comes  and  see  how  quickly  he  will 
chase  away  the  blues." 

Marie  wondered  in  her  heart  if  Ruth  mistrusted  why 


74  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

she  was  downcast.  But  shame  kept  her  from  confiding 
the  truth,  and  hence  both  maid  and  mistress  avoided 
touching  upon  the  unpleasantness  of  the  previous  even 
ing,  or  mentioning  the  name  of  Earnest  Stocklaid. 

With  Ruth's  keen  perception,  however,  she  did  not  need 
to  be  told  the  cause  of  the  young  lady's  mood,  for  the  very 
nature  of  her  social  existence  for  the  past  three  years 
could  but  reveal  her  attachment  to  the  young  man.  and 
guilty  or  not  of  his  downfall,  she  must  certainly  feel  a 
sense  of  humiliation  for  his  weakness.  At  last  the  day 
came  to  a  close  and  the  family  retired,  but  Marie  tossed 
upon  her  bed  and  sleep  could  not  be  coaxed  to  enfold  her 
'neath  its  wings  of  forgetfulness.  Whatever  of  remorse 
or  of  self-accusation  she  felt,  it  was  between  herself  and 
God,  whom  she  did  not  know  nor  care  to  serve. 

At  last  the  morning  broke  and  daylight  came  creeping 
in.  Marie  arose  and  seated  herself  at  her  desk  to  write. 
Ruth  was  conscious  of  her  doings,  but  chose  rather  to 
be  ignorant  for  conscience's  sake  and  let  her  work  out  her 
own  destiny  as  the  All  Wise  intends  we  shall. 

Once,  twice  she  dipped  her  pen,  putting  her  thoughts 
upon  the  paper,  and  then  not  satisfied  with  the  result  she 
wrote  again.  At  last  she  had  fashioned  something  to  suit 
her,  and,  closing  the  envelope,  she  addressed  it  to  Earnest 
Stocklaid. 

Answering  the  early  postman's  ring,  she  put  the  letter, 
with  a  piece  of  money,  into  his  hand  and  bade  him  deliver 
the  message  at  once.  "Take  care,"  she  said,  "it  must  be 
delivered  within  the  hour  or  it  will  be  of  no  avail." 

Ruth  longed  to  know  the  contents  of  that  note,  but 
could  not.  yet  for  many  months.  If  she  could  have  seen 
the  poor  bowed  head  and  touched  with  sympathy  the  ach 
ing  heart  of  Earnest  Stocklaid  when  he  read  that  morning: 
"We  shall  go  to-morrow,  but  do  not  try  to  see  me  or  to 


R.    S.    V.    P. 


76  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

say  good-bye  for  I  feel  that  you  have  forfeited  my  love, 
inasmuch  as  you  have  debased  your  manhood  and  lost 
your  own  self-respect,"  she  would  have  been  glad  she  was 
spared  the  regret  of  such  an  hour. 

The  morning  had  dawned  dark  and  lowery  and  the 
rain  came  down  in  a  slow  drizzle,  making  drowsy  nature 
look  drowsier  still,  and  the  day  seemed  duller  to  the  young 
women  than  the  day  before.  At  last  the  hour  had  arrived 
when  Judge  Earnestine  should  arrive.  Marie  began  to 
awaken  and  a  sense  of  her  responsibility  dawned  upon 
her.  She  arose  and  began  to  make  preparations  for  his 
reception.  She  flew  to  the  dressing  case  and  took  one 
peep  into  the  mirror.  Her  face  looked  more  womanly 
now  than  when  her  father  had  said  good-bye  three  years 
before.  She  stroked  her  waves  of  auburn  hair  that  lay 
regularly  upon  her  brow,  straightened  the  knot  at  her 
throat,  drew  the  window  shades  to  throw  the  most  cheer 
ful  glow  of  light  upon  the  room,  and  then  sat  down  to 
await  the  arrival  of  the  carnage.  A  long  time  it  seemed 
to  her,  but  at  last  it  drove  in  sight  and  directly  paused 
before  the  gate.  The  door  was  opened  and  a  tall,  thin 
man  stepped  out.  Marie  started  back;  could  that  be  her 
father?  Yes,  sure  enough,  it  was  Judge  Earnestine;  but 
how  changed  he  was!  What  could  be  the  matter  with 
him?  Flying  to  the  door,  she  wound  her  arms  about  him 
and  wept  for  joy,  saying:  "Oh,  papa!  how  glad  I  am  to 
see  you  again !  But  do  tell  me,  beloved,  what  is  the  matter 
with  you — you  are  so  very  thin  and  pale?  Have  those 
Turks  been  starving  you  in  prison,  or  has  the  Russian 
bear  set  his  paw  down  upon  you?" 

The  father  laughed  at  the  witticism  and  made  a  grimace 
at  the  troubled  look  upon  the  face  of  his  child,  but  to  allay 
her  fears,  he  replied:  "Neither  one,  my  daughter,  your 


JUDGE    EARNESTINE    AT    THIRTY. 


78  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

papa  is  getting  old;- that  is  all.  Three-score  years  and  ten 
should  be  crowned  with  old  age;  should  it  not?" 

Marie  caressed  his  thin  cheek  and  replied:  "Ay,  father, 
but  age  should  not  take  the  healthful  glow  from  your  face. 
You  once  looked  so  robust." 

Aunt  Langsford  and  Ruth  stood  waiting  to  give  him 
their  welcome,  and  tell  how  glad  they  were  to  have  him 
with  them  once  more. 

After  his  sister,  he  took  Ruth's  hand  in  his  own  and 
gazed  intently  into  her  face.  And  then  as  if  he  had 
awakened  from  a  dream  said:  "Bless  me,  Ruth!  can  this 
be  you?  Indeed  1  do  not  think  I  ever  s-aw  you  before." 
Ruth  smiled  meaningly,  and  replied:  "I  am  sure  you 
never  knew  me,  Judge  Earnestine,  even  if  you  have  seen 
me.  I  trust  that  we  may  become  better  acquainted  in  the 
days  to  come,  and  that  you  will  learn  to  think  kindly  of 
me  in  life,  for  I  shall  try  to  bring  happiness  and  comfort 
to  your  beloved  daughter." 

Something  like  chagrin  flitted  over  the  face  of  the  re 
nowned  man,  and  in  the  breadth  of  a  thought  he  tried  to 
remember  what  he  had  ever 'done  during  the  years  that 
this  gentle  girl  had  been  in  his  daughter's  employ  to  make 
her  life  brighter,  happier  or  better.  He  had  spoken  truly 
when  he  said,  "I  do  not  think  I  ever  knew  you."  And  this 
was  indeed  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  he  had  ever  looked 
at  her  with  more  than  a  passing  thought. 

The  Judge  made  a  few  words  of  inquiry  about  his 
daughter's  plans,  about  her  future  movements,  and  then 
admonished  her  to  make  her  stay  short  in  France  ani 
England  as  his  physician  had  warned  him  to  hasten  home 
to  America. 

Marie's  face  assumed  a  troubled  expression,  and  she 
said:  "Dear  papa,  I  am  willing  to  forego  any  pleasure 
that  I  may  have  anticipated,  and  we  will  go  directly  home." 


80  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Her  father's  face  expressed  pleasure  at  this  evidence  ol 
self-denial;  for  he  remembered  how  in  earlier  life  such 
a  spirit  of  sacrifice  was  to  her  unknown.  It  gave  him 
satisfaction  to  know  that  she  was  changed,  and  he  kindly 
thanked  her: 

Marking  her  wonderful  improvement  since  they  last 
met,  his  eyes  tenderly  and  admiringly  followed  her  about 
the  room.  Her  face  seemed  to  him  more  classical  and  her 
movements  more  graceful  than  he  had  ever  hoped  they 
could  be.  He  complimented  her  attainments  and  ex 
pressed  joy  at  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  return  home,  at 
which  time  he  would  then  have  them  with  him.  On  the 
morrow  they  were  to  start  on  their  journey  homeward. 
Taking  a  carriage,  they  were  driven  to  the  dock,  then 
boarded  a  steamer  bound  for  America.  Just  as  they  had 
alighted  from  the  carriage,  Ruth  saw,  standing  back  and 
apart  from  the  others,  Earnest  Stocklaid  with  a  sad,  pale 
face  that  told  of  an  aching  heart  within  his  breast.  She 
gave  him  a  pleasant  smile  of  recognition  and  gently 
waved  good-bye.  A  look  of  gratitude  was  plainly  de 
picted  upon  his  face  and  Ruth  looked  to  see  if  Marie  was 
cognizant  of  the  fact  that  he  \vas  there.  To  all  appearance 
she  was  pleasantly  chatting  with  her  father  and  had  not 
seen  him.  The  boat  steamed  out. 

The  voyage  was  most  tempestuous,  Judge  Earnestine 
wras  very  poorly  all  the  way,  and  they  concluded  to  spend 
a  little  time  in  London  to  give  him  a  chance  to  recuperate 
and  to  gather  strength  for  the  long  voyage  to  America. 

Ruth  was  delighted  with  the  plan,  for,  taking  up  a 
morning  paper,  she  had  read  of  the  great  parade  to  be 
made  that  day  in  the  streets  of  London  by  the  labor 
organizations.  Being  desirous  of  comparing  such 
demonstration  with  those  of  her  own  country,  she  was 
most  eager  to  see  the  display.  Much  to  her  delight,  she 


THE  LONDON  WORKING  PEOPLE  IN  LINE.  81 

found  that  the  procession  was  to  pass  through  the  very 
street  upon  which  their  hotel  was  situated  and  that  without 
trouble  she  could  have  a  fair  view  of  that  body  of  people. 
It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  before  that  immense 
procession  of  men,  yes,  and  women  too  (for  the  English 
women  marched  in  train  with  their  brothers),  had  reached 
the  street  where  she  could  see  them.  For  two  hours  the 
stream  of  life  kept  moving  on  writh  its  steady  tread. 

The  line  of  march  was  many  miles  in  length.  It  wound 
in  and  out  and  round  about  the  streets  of  London,  as 
indifferent  to  the  remarks  hurled  at  it  by  the  gentry  as 
that  old  leviathan  described  of  God  in  the  forty-first  chap 
ter  of  Job. 

Ruth  stood  upon  the  balcony  of  the  hotel  and  looked 
down  with  moistened  eyes  upon  this  labor  procession  of 
London.  She  noted  the  air  of  gaunt  misery  that  was 
depicted  upon  the  faces  of  this  mass  of  humanity.  She  saw 
the  haggard  and  helpless  expression  upon  the  faces  of  the 
men;  she  saw  the  starved,  pinched  and  suffering  coun 
tenances  of  women  who  marched  tramp!  tramp!  to  music; 
she  saw  some  with  infants  tugging  at  the  breast;  she  saw 
others  who  had  little  children  at  their  side  with  bleeding 
feet;  and  she  felt  that  American  working  men  and  women 
had  not  yet  begun  to  learn  the  meaning  of  poverty. 

Marie  stood  by  her  side  and  heard  the  comments  of  the 
better  class  as  they  looked  down  and  criticized  that  body 
of  lacerated  souls;  she  saw  the  scornful  look  upon  the  face 
of  the  wealthy,  as  they  sat  in  their  elegant  carriages,  which 
were  manned  and  equipped  with  servants;  heard  the 
biting,  jeering  words  that  were  hurled  after  them  from  the 
rabble  below,  and  unconsciously,  as  though  fear  had 
taken  hold  upon  her,  she  slipped  her  hand  into  Ruth's, 
whose  heart  was  just  bursting  with  pity  and  compassion 
for  those  down  trodden  masses.  Ruth  mistaking  the 


82  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

girl's  act  for  love,  said  to  her:  "Oh,  how  my  soul  burns 
within  me  to  go  down  among  them  and  put  life  in  their 
souls,  to  embue  them  with  strength  to  rise  above  the  bonds 
of  oppression.  If  God  is  for,  who  can  be  against?" 

Marie  proudly  raised  her  head,  while  very  scorn  was 
depicted  upon  her  countenance  as  she  listened  to  the  words 
of  Ruth  so  eagerly  spoken,  and  uttered:  "How  can  you? 
I  would  scorn  to  tread  where  their  feet  have  pressed.  It 
is  strange  to  me,  Ruth,  that  you  who  in  many  things  are 
noble,  should  sympathize  with  this  howling  multitude." 
Ruth  bit  her  lip,  and  hard  lines  which  were  not  often  seen 
set  about  her  mouth,  as  she  replied  in  tones  that  were 
pitiful  in  the  extreme:  "Yes,  it  is  strange;  but  the  blessed 
Lord  Jesus,  who  came  into  the  world  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost,  came  for  such  as  these.  And  it  is 
not  strange  to  me  as  to  you  that  his  great  divine  love  for 
humanity  can  find  lodgment  in  my  own  heart  and  make 
me  love  them  too."  Then  changing  her  voice  until  it  rang, 
she  said:  "Do  you  scorn  those  people?  I  can  not  but  feel 
that  unless  you  are  greatly  changed  and  repent  toward 
God  and  permit  His  gentle  spirit  to  come  into  your  heart, 
filling  it  with  a  tenderer  compassion  for  humanity,  the  time 
will  come  in  eternity  when  you,  like  the  rich  man  in  hell 
who  looked  up  and  saw  Lazarus  in  Abraham's  bosom, 
will  also  look  up  and  behold  these  downtrodden  and 
poor  of  the  world  embraced  in  the  bosom  of  our  Lord, 
while  you,  like  they  now  are,  will  be  languishing  in  outer 
darkness."  Marie  looked  her  maid  steadfastly  in  the  eye. 
"Ruth,"  she  said,  "your  words  have  in  them  a  terrible 
meaning.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  so  greatly  in  the 
wrong?  Can  there  be  need  of  such  poverty  and  indigency 
as  this  in  the  world?  Tell  me,  how  can  I  become  what 
you  so  much  desire  me  to  be?  I  am  sure  I  am  not  willfully 
in  the  wrong." 


84  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Ruth's  eyes  moistened  with  tears  and  she  replied: 
"Dear  Miss  Earnestine,  ask  for  help  and  you  will  be  led 
into  that  beautiful  life  where  you  can  see  and  love  all 
humanity.  There  certainly  is  not  any  need  of  such  a 
wretched  state  of  existence  as  we  here  behold,  and  in'tha* 
respect  you  are  quite  right.  But,  dear  girl,  pause  anrl 
think,  what  makes  this  woe?  Every  creature  has  ^ 
Creator,  but  did  God  create  such  misery  as  this  in  the 
world?  Ah,  no!  A  thousand  times,  no!  God  wills  that 
peace  and  plenty  shall  rain  down  upon  his  people.  God's 
will  is  that  every  soul  shall  be  happy  in  Him.  But  it  is 
man  who  has  wrought  this  evil  and  cursed  the  generations. 
The  saloon,  the  brothel,  the  den — places  where  all  iniquity 
abound — are  the  devices  of  men.  Man's  avarice  and  greed 
for  gold  have  led  him  to  make  merchandise  of  the  people 
and  these  are  they  that  are  sold  into  bondage  and  death 
that  men  may  grow  rich!" 

And  then  coming  the  nearest  to  heartlessness  that  she 
had  ever  done,  Ruth  said:  "Even  the  wealthy  and  beauti 
ful  daughters  of  the  world,  in  pursuit  of  earthly  pleasure, 
will  insist  upon  the  use  of  wine  to  the  injury  of  their  fel- 
lowrs.  Oftentimes  the  fall  begins  at  the  mansion.  The  vic 
tims  of  the  wine  cup  who  are  taught  by  fair  woman's  hand 
to  love  the  beverage,  drop  lower  and  lower  and  eventually 
become  the  slums  of  society." 

Marie's  face  turned  pale  and  she  staggered  backward 
and  sank  into  a  chair.  Ruth's  sword  had  cut  deeper  than 
she  knew,  and  the  hot  tears  were  rolling  down  her  cheek. 
Ruth,  whose  very  name  was  pity  and  tenderness,  gathered 
the  hurt  one  to  her  bosom,  put  a  loving  kiss  upon  her 
brow,  and  said :  "I  have  no  more  fear  of  you."  At  length 
Marie  rose  and  taking  the  hand  of  her  maid,  said:  "Dear 
Ruth,  you  are  a  savage  in  your  thrusts,  but  I  confess  I 
have  deserved  it  all  and  will  try  in  the  future  to  profit  by 


THE  LONDON  WORKING  PEOPLE  IN  LINE.  85 

your  rebuke.  Come,  now,  let  us  go  in,  for  I  am  weary  of 
looking  upon  this  scene." 

As  they  turned  to  go,  they  saw  Judge  Earnestine  stand 
ing  at  their  side.  He  had  been  cognizant  of  the  whole 
conversation.  Ruth  smiled  pleasantly  at  him,  and  as  they 
passed  on  she  heard  him  exclaim  to  his  daughter:  "Vae 
victis!  Marie,  is  it  always  so  when  you  and  your  maid 
hold  a  controversy?" 

"Yes,  father  mine,  our  Ruth  is  a  dagger  of  truth  and 
she  cuts  deep,  but  her  setting  is  of  jewels  most  rare." 

The  two  laughed  heartily;  but  Ruth  knew  that  under 
neath  the  mantle  of  gaiety  was  a  conscience  that  was 
hurting  and  a  remorse  that  would  burn  on  for  many  a 
day. 

The  reader  may  search  in  vain  for  such  a  character  in 
the  everyday  waiting  maid  so  commonly  employed  by  the 
world,  but  we  would  pause  to  say  in  defense  of  the  true  ob 
ject  of  this  character  that  it  has  not  been  our  purpose  so 
much  to  show  a  working  girl,  as  we  so  commonly  find  her, 
but  to  set  forth  the  possibilities  within  the  reach  of  any  and 
every  wage  earner.  No  girl  is  menial  or  ignorant  simply 
because  she  is  a  wage  earner.  Labor  is  the  most  essential 
factor  in  the  combination  of  life.  Without  labor  the  physi 
cal  man  can  never  be  fully  developed,  and  true  nobility 
can  never  be  degraded  by  labor.  If  one' be  inclined  to 
degradation,  he  will  be  base  and  ignorant  in  the  possession 
of  wealth  just  as  quickly  as  in  poverty. 

Ruth  Mansfield  was  a  woman  born,  and  no  matter  what 
her  calling  in  life  had  been,  she  could  never  have  been 
menial.  And  had  Marie  inherited  a  nobler  spirit  she 
would  have  feared  to  do  violence  to  the  feelings  of  one 
so  gifted  and  beautiful  in  spirit  as  Ruth.  As  it  was,  much 
of  her  unkindness  and  dogmatism  was  due  to  her  own 
ignorance  and  the  want  of  Christian  culture  in -her  heart. 


86  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

She  had  grown  to  believe  that  only  the  rich  were  deserving 
of  consideration.  Notwithstanding  all  that,  she  bore  in 
her  heart  a  deep,  warm,  loving  thought  for  Ruth,  who  had 
so  sweetly  mastered  her  will  on  so  many  different  occasions 
and  made  her  feel  that  her  office  was  more  of  a  companion 
than  a  maid.  Ruth  could  not  see  that  Marie  was  thinking 
of  the  past,  so  she  breathed  an  earnest  prayer,  then  left 
her  with  God.  She  thought:  "It  is  but  right  that  every 
soul  should  consider  their  own  misdeeds,  and  the  punish 
ment  should  be  to  them  alone." 

A  few  days  of  rest  in  smoky  London,  and  Judge  Earn- 
estine  announced  that  he  was  ready  to  sail  to  America. 
Somehow,  Ruth,  who  had  been  watching  him  closely 
during  the  last  few  days,  felt  a  misgiving,  for  she  greatly 
feared  he  would  not  be  able  to  stand  the  journey  home. 
But  whatever  his  physical  suffering  or  the  thought  of  his 
heart,  he  kept  his  own  counsel  and  spared  his  daughter 
grave  fears  until  he  was  carefully  ensconced  in  his  own 
room  with  the  great  steamship  headed  for  America  and 
home.  Then,  calling  the  family  group  together,  with  an 
especial  request  for  Ruth,  he  calmly  spoke  of  his  fears  of 
death  and  told  them  that  he  might  not  live  to  reach  New 
York. 

His  words  to  Marie  were  replete  with  fatherly  tender 
ness  and  he  conimended  her  to  the  mercy  of  the  world, 
saying:  "My  fortune  will  be  yours,  and  it  will  serve  you, 
as  it  has  your  father,  better  than  earthly  friends." 

Then  turning  to  Ruth,  he  said:  "Miss  Mansfield  (and 
his  voice  had  a  ring  that  told  in  what  high  esteem  she 
was  held)  you  have  been  kind  to  my  daughter  in  the 
days  gone  by;  will  you  still  be  her  friend  when  I  am 
gone?" 

Ruth  took  his  hand  and  replied:  "Yes,  Judge  Earn- 
estine,  I  will  be  her  friend."  A  look  of  happy  trust  came 


IN  THE  STREETS  OF  LONDON. 


88  KUTH  AND  MARIE. 

into  the  man's  eyes,  and  without  another  word  he  joined 
their  hands  and  then  merged  into  unconsciousness.  He 
was  very  ill. 

This  was  a  great  shock  to  Marie,  who  all  her  life  had 
been  shielded  from  saddening  scenes.  Now  the  thought 
of  parting  with  her  beloved  father  in  death  was  almost  all 
her  sorrowing  heart  could  bear.  Ruth,  strong  in  heart  and 
true,  equal  to  any  task,  set  about  with  the  zeal  of  a  pro 
fessional  to  nurse  the  man  back  to  life,  with  the  hope  that 
he  might  at  least  be  spared  to  die  beneath  his  own  roof. 
The  doctor  was  faithful  in  his  attentions,  scarcely  leaving 
the  bedside  of  the  suffering  man,  encouraging  as  best  he 
could,  giving  hope  and  comfort  to  the  affectionate  daugh 
ter,  who  felt  she  could  not  bear  the  separation  from  her 
father.  She  knew  too  well  that  all  earthly  love  and  skill 
are  like  a  feeble  zephyr;  when  God's  messenger  puts 
forth  his  hand  and  touches  humanity  with  the  icy  ringers 
of  death.  That  soul  must  go. 

All  day  Ruth  had  sat  by  the  bedside  speaking  from 
time  to  time  in  earnest  solicitation  for  the  welfare  of  a 
soul.  But  try  as  she  would,  she  had  not  yet  been  able  to 
fasten  a  single  thought  or  to  bring  the  man  to  see  the 
dark  yawning  of  eternity  before  him.  But  at  last  when 
she  was  almost  discouraged  and  thought  her  efforts  vain, 
she  filled  with  joy  to  have  him  turn  his  pale  face  toward 
her  with  a  look  that  seemed  as  though  spiritual  reason 
had  come  at  last,  and  say:  "Ruth,  if  my  soul  is  lost  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  stand  at  the  judgment  bar  of  God  and 
ac'cuse  you  of  having  failed-  in  your  duty  as  an  embassador 
for  Christ.  You  have  most  faithfully  done  your  duty  in 
trying  to  show  me  the  way  of  salvation.  But  (and  upon  his 
face  was  depicted  most  eager  anxiety)  I  have  lived  almost 
seventy-four  years  in  indifference.  Think  you  there  is 
hope  for  me  now?" 


AN    AFTERNOON    IN    THE    PARKS. 


yu  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

"Ah,  yes,  sir!  There  is  hope  so  long  as  there  is  life. 
Christ  hath  said:  'Whosoever  cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in 
no  wise  cast  out.'  Does  not  that  'whosoever'  cover  your 
case?  God  is  gracious  to  bestow  salvation  and  not  willing 
to  cut  off  any  from  eternal  life." 

The  ship  was  just  entering  New  York  harbor  as  the 
dying  man  lay  there  saying  over  and  over  again,  "Whoso 
ever,"  "WThosoever."  It  came  faint  and  fainter  still  as  the 
man's  soul  seemed  trying  to  grasp  the  hand  of  Him  who 
hath  said  "Whosoever,"  seemingly  unconscious  that  a 
woman  with  a  burdened  heart  was  praying  for  salvation 
to  come  to  him  in  his  dying  hour. 

"Whosoever"  was  once  more  audible  to  listening  ears. 
A  shiver  passed  over  his  frame  and  the  millionaire  lay 
dead. 

Ruth  closed  her  Bible,  and  taking  Marie,  who  lay  with 
her  face  buried  in  the  bosom  of  her  dead,  gently  led  her 
away  amid  sobs  and  moans  such  as  are  known  only  to 
those  who  have  not  a  Christian  hope.  Marie  gasped  for 
breath  and  held  out  her  hands,  while  one  could  see  that 
within  her  soul  was  a  mute  appeal  to  a  something  greater, 
something  beyond  herself.  Pillowing  the  head  of  the  be 
reaved  child  upon  her  bosom,  Ruth  whispered:  "Dear 
one,  my  heart  aches  for  you,  but  there  is  but  one  Com 
forter  for  human  woes.  Look  unto  Jesus,  and  He  will 
help  you." 

It  was  a  gloomy  journey  to  them  from  New  York  to 
San  Francisco.  In  the  palace  car  sat  Marie  Earnestine  in 
deep  grief  as  she  was  whirled  across  the  continent  with  the 
body  of  her  dead.  And  gloomier  still  was  that  procession 
that  mounted  Nob  Hill  following  the  silent  form  of  their 
beloved,  who  was  to  be  buried  from  his  own  palatial  home*. 

The  ripened  leaves  from  the  trees  in  autumn  fall  to 
the  earth  having  fulfilled  their  mission  here.  They  fall 


THE  LONDON  WORKING  PEOPLE  IN  LINE.  91 

to  rest  upon  the  earth.  So  it  is  with  man.  The  body, 
like  a  ripened  husk,  must  break  loose  from  the  soul,  the 
spirit  must  go  out  into  the  hereafter  and  the  body  goes 
to  its  own — the  dust.  The  reaper's  blade  had  cut  Judge 
Earnestine  down  like  the  ripened  shock  and  there  was 
nothing  left  to  witness  for  him  but-  deeds.  What  were 
those  deeds?  Were  they  gentle  acts  of  love  fraught  with 
human  kindness?  Were  they  seeds  planted  to  spring  and 
grow  again  to  bear  rich  fruit  for  the  master's  use.  Ah, 
no.  A  man  had  lived  to  amass  wealth.  That  he  might 
grow  rich  he  had  increased  poverty.  To  bring  into  his 
coffers  that  gold  that  will  become  cankered,  "the  rust  of 
which  will  testify  against  him,"  he  had  labored  to  per 
petuate  the  liquor  curse  and  had  trafficked  in  human  souls. 
Yes,  he  had  planted  seeds,  but  the  -seeds  of  his  sowing 
would  grow  thorns  instead  of  flo\vers  upon  his  grave. 
Life  on  earth  is  a  real  earnest  of  the  world  to  come;  and 
when  we  pause  at  the  end  of  that  life  and  look  into  the 
black,  yawning  grave  before  us,  we  are  willing  to  say  in  all 
wisdom  that  the  evil  deeds  committed  during  one's  life 
are  not  half  so  black  as  at  one's  death. 


INTERIOR    OF    THE    EARNESTINE    HOME. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   FUNERAL   OF   JUDGE   EARNESTINE. 

The  remains  of  Judge  Earnestine  lay  in  state  in  the 
great  drawing  room  at  the  mansion.  At  the  head  of  the 
elegant  casket  stood  the  candelabra  with  its  waxen  tapers 
lighted,  and  all  was  in  readiness  for  the  burial.  The  air 
was  heavy  with  the  odor  of  tube-roses  and  sweet-scented 
blossoms,  and  the  friends  of  the  deceased,  with  mournful 
tread,  were  gathering  in  the  room. 

Father  Hachilah,  from  St.  Mary's  Cathedral,  was  there 
in  clerical  robes  to  perform  the  funeral  rites;  and  a  deep 
solemnity  seemed  to  have  settled  down  upon  the  assembly. 

Marie,  with  her  kinsfolks,  sat  sorrowfully  at  the  feet  of 
her  dead  and  sobbed  most  piteously  as  she  listened  to  the 
deep,  solemn  tones  of  the  priest  while  he  held  high  mass 
over  the  body  whose  spirit  had  gone  out  to  meet  its  God. 

Ruth  stood  apart  with  the  group  of  family  servants,  with 
bowed  head  and  reverent  spirit,  while  she  listened  to  the 
good  man  who  officiated.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life 
that  she  had  been  present  at  a  funeral  where  the  rites 
were  observed  after  the  manner  of  this  sect,  and  in  some 
ways  she  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  service  to-day. 
But  yet,  she  could  not  quite  harmonize  her  faith  with  the 
thought  of  offering  prayers  on  earth  for  those  who  had 
gone  to  the  spirit  land.  But  then,  she  could  not  tell. 
God's  word  was  very  deep  and  wonderfully  mysterious. 
She  quoted  the  ninth  verse  of  the  first  chapter  of  Joel :  "The 
meat  offering  and  drink  offering  are  cut  off  from  the  house 
of  the  Lord;  the  priests,  the  Lord's  ministers,  mourn." 
And  again  in  the  fourteenth  verse  of  the  second  chapter: 


94  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

"Who  knoweth  if  he  will  return  and  repent  and  leave  a 
blessing  behind  him,  even  a  meat  offering  and  a  drink 
offering  unto  the  house  of  the  Lord  your  God?  "  Most 
surely  the  blessed  God  had  left  the  way  open  for  repent 
ance,  even  unto  the  returning.  And  while  she  could  not 
see  just  how  it  could  be,  yet  she  felt  that  the  last  inquiry 
of  the  man  as  he  lay  dying  trying  to  grasp  through  faith 
the  hand  of  him  who  said  "Whosoever,"  was  in  harmony 
with  His  saying:  "To-day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  para 
dise."  And  she,  too,  in  this  auspicious  moment,  found 
herself  praying  for  the  dead. 

Marie  had  seen  her  beloved  parent  tenderly  laid  away 
in  the  grave,  and  then  found  herself  standing  alone,  sole 
heir  and  possessor  of  her  father's  vast  estate.  What  could 
she  do  with  it?  And  whom  could  she  trust  with  her  busi 
ness  interests?  Poor  dear  child!  She  had  no  more  idea 
of  how  to  battle  with  the  elements  in  the  great  world  of 
business  than  a  baby.  But  upon  careful  investigation  she 
found  that  her  father,  who  had  known  that  his  end  must 
come  full  soon,  had  so  settled  his  affairs  that  her  pre 
occupation  was  already  assumed,  for  which  she  was  glad. 
Thus  all  that  was  left  for  her  to  do  was  to  become  familiar 
with  her  own. 

In  her  bereavement,  she  was  experiencing  much  keen 
dread,  lest  Ruth,  in  her  eager  pursuit  after  knowledge, 
would  conceive  the  thought  of  leaving  her  employ  for 
other  and  higher  calling.  She  even  feared  to  mention  it 
lest  she  should  hasten  her  day  of  departure,  but  was  silent 
and  cautious  as  to  her  behavior,  so  as  not  to  grieve  or 
estrange  the  girl's  heart  from  her.  And  yet  with  all  this 
foreboding  hanging  over  her,  she  never  for  one  moment 
let  down  the  line  that  divided  the  aristocracy  from  the 
people,  or  said  to  the  girl  (what  she  truly  felt  in  her  heart) 
that  Ruth  was  her  superior  in  intellect  and  a  better  com- 


DRAWING    ROOM. 


96  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

panion  than  a  servant.  However,  Ruth  noted  a  change 
in  Marie  since  the  death  of  her  father.  She  was  not  so 
austere  and  ironical  as  heretofore,  and  the  responsibility 
of  looking  after  the  estate  oftener  brought  her  into  council 
with  her  helpers  and  a  better  spirit  of  patience  was  mani 
fested  than  in  times  gone  by.  Yet  there  were  times  when 
that  old  spirit  of  haughtiness  would  return,  and,  in  con 
trast  with  her  better  self,  would  make  her  appear  even 
worse  than  it  had  in  other  days.  At  such  times  Ruth 
would  smile  and  say:  "Better  not  have  any  reputation 
for  goodness  than  to  have  periodical  spells  of  badness." 

So  long  as  the  sun  shines  on  in  tranquillity,  throwing 
its  even  and  placid  rays  upon  the  earth,  we  never  glance 
toward  it  with  a  suspicious  thought  or  doubt  its  loyalty 
to  the  beautiful  world  over  which  it  shines,  and  man  has 
no  occasion  to  distrust  its  all-powerful  influence  for  good 
upon  the  earth.  But  let  a  spot  appear  upon  the  sun,  and 
the  whole  united  kingdom  of  men  will  stand  with  smoked 
glass  in  their  hand  watching  that  spot.  Just  so  it  is  with 
the  character  of  man.  The  error  of  the  moral  man,  the 
occasional  stepping  away  from  correct  habits  by  those 
professing  goodness,  the  sins  committed  by  the  professing 
Christian  (such  as  the  yielding  to  fits  of  temper  by  Marie) 
were  like  spots  on  the  sun — known  and  seen  of  all  men. 
And  it  is  by  the  "spots"  upon  our  character  that  we  are 
judged  of  men.  For  God  alone  puts  the  good  in  the 
balance  with  evil  to  see  which  will  outweigh  in  the  char 
acter  of  his  children.  Ruth  prayed  earnestly  for  Marie's 
conversion,  for  she  felt  that  nothing  but  true  religion 
and  the  spirit  of  Christ  could  change  her  heart  or  remove 
the  "spots"  from  her  otherwise  beautiful  character. 

Jeremiah,  in  his  description  of  a  changed  life,  very 
beautifully  expresses  the  thought  of  an  individual  after 
he  has  ceased  from  evil  and  given  himself  to  good  where 


FLORAL    MEMORIAL. 


FUNERAL  OF  JUDGE  EARNESTTNE.  99 

he  says:  "Surely  after  I  was  turned,  I  repented.  I  smote 
upon  my  thigh;  I  was  ashamed,  yea,  even  confounded 
because  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my  youth." 

From  the  day  Ruth  Mansfield  came  into  the  service  of 
this  aristocratic  family  she  had  measured  Marie's  true 
worth,  and  had  been  praying  that  the  girl  might  be 
changed  and  brought  to  repentance  where  she  could 
know  experimentally  the  testimony  of  that  grand  old 
prophet  and  experience  a  Savior's  love,  which  would  so 
beautify  her  life  and  make  her  a  blessing  to  the  society 
in  which  she  moved,  a  blessing  to  the  home  in  which  she 
lived. 

She  prayed,  trusting  that  ere  long  she  should  hear  the 
glad  news  that  salvation,  the  free  gift  of  God,  had  come 
to  the  young  mistress  of  the  Palace  Earnestine. 
'  Shortly  after  the  death  of  her  father,  the  Sisters  of 
Charity  had  called  upon  Marie  and  earnestly  besought 
her  to  come  into  the  church  with  which  her  people  had 
been  identified.  But  her  life  of  worldliness  and  the  train 
ing  of  her  childhood  had  been  such  as  to  have  a  tendency 
to  harden  her  young  heart,  and  she  treated  her  visitors 
with  a  most  indifferent  spirit,  for  which  Ruth  was  sorry, 
and  said:  "Dear  Miss  Earnestine,  I  am  not  a  Catholic, 
yet  I  believe  that  any  religion  that  has  the  blessed  Lord 
Jesus  in  it  has  Christ  enough  to  save  a  soul.  You  had  bet 
ter  consider  carefully  the  purpose  of  these  good  women 
and  weigh  their  desire  to  do  you  good  before  you  dismiss 
from  your  thoughts  the  object  for  which  they  come." 

Marie  looked  steadfastly  at  her  while  she  spoke  and  then 
in  all  candor  replied:  "I  am  glad  that  you  are  so  frank 
with  me,  dear  Ruth,  for  it  makes  me  free  to  express  the 
thoughts  of  my  heart.  I  have  often  wished  that  I  might  be 
associated  with  some  sect  or  religious  society  where  I 
could  know  and  be  known  with  good  people;  but  when 


100  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

1  compare  your  code  of  morals  with  the  habits  of  my 
life  I  can  not  see  what  good  thing  there  would  be  left  for 
me  to  enjoy  should  I  forsake  all  pleasure  and  become  as 
you  are.  I  would  rather  belong  to  the  world  than  be  a 
hypocrite  and  profess  to  be  good  before  men  and  in  my 
heart  love  sin." 

Ruth  smiled  sweetly  and  said:  "You  are  quite  right. 
Miss  Earnestine,  in  your  sentiments  regarding  the  true 
way  for  a  Christian  to  live,  but  there  is  a  wide  difference 
in  the  government  and  discipline  of  these  two  sects — the 
Catholic  and  Protestant  religions.  The  Evangelical 
Protestant  churches  do  not  approve  of  worldly  amuse 
ments  or  of  the  use  of  wine  and  strong  drink  as  a  bever 
age,  and  their  members  who  do  these  things  are  excom 
municated  from  the  church  and  counted  by  that  body  to 
be  in  a  lost  and  fallen  state.  But  with  the  Roman  Cath 
olic  Church  the  matter  of  heart  purity  is  left  with  the 
individual  and  his  God,  since  the  great  heads  of  the  church 
have  not  thought  it  wise  to  cut  off  any  for  indulgence  in 
worldly  pleasure.  It  does  not  matter  what  the  creed 
says,  soul  purity  is  a  privilege  that  all  may  enjoy,  and  I 
urge  you  to  seek  God  while  He  may  be  found,  and  if 
these  dear  Sisters  come  to  you  again  I  pray  you  be  kind 
to  them  at  least."  The  tears  then  welled  up  in  her  eyes 
and  she  continued :  "Dear  Miss  Earnestine,  I  have  prayed 
so  long  for  you;  how  it  would  rejoice  my  heart  to  know 
that  you  would  put  your  influence  on  the  right  side." 
Marie  sat  for  a  moment  with  downcast  eyes,  as  if  lost  in 
thought,  and  then  looked  her  maid  full  in  the  face  and 
said:  "Ruth,  if -ever  I  become  a  Christian,  I  shall  certain 
ly  unite  with  the  Catholic  Church.  Would  you  pray  for 
me  as  a  Catholic  or  would  you  hate  me?" 

Ruth  smiled  at  the  frank  honesty  of  the  girl,  and 
throwing  her  arms  about  her  neck  exclaimed:  "Hate 


FUNERAL  OP  JUDGE  EARNESTINE.  101 

you,  dear!  What  for?  Simply  because  you  had  united 
with  the  church  of  your  choice?  Ah,  no!  my  precious 
friend,  I  would  love  you  for  having  had  the  courage  of 
your  convictions.  There  is  nothing  in  an  earthly  name. 
'There  is  but  one  name  given  under  heaven,  and  among 
men,  whereby  we  may  be  saved,  and  that  is  the  name  of 
Jesus.'  Take  that  precious  name  with  you  into  your 
church,  your  business  and  your  life,  and  it  matters  not 
what  the  sect  may  be;  where  Jesus  is,  there  is  salvation. 
I  repeat  it,  there  is  nothing  in  a  name,  and  it  matters  not 
whether  it  be  Catholic  or  Protestant,  'Christ  is  the  be 
ginning  and  the  end  of  the  law  to  every  one  that  believ- 
eth.'  There  is  but  one  God,  one  Law  Giver,  and  'Who 
soever  will  walk  in  the  light,  as  Christ  is  in  the  light,  verily 
he  shall  be  saved.' " 

The  time  wore  on  and  stretched  out  into  weeks  and 
months  and  each  day  seemed  to  bind  these  two  girls  more 
closely  together.  Different  in  temperament,  different  in 
tastes  and  different  in  habits,  and  even  in  their  social  stand 
ing,  yet  like  the  "fern  to  be,"  their  life  lines  ran  parallel  with 
each  other  and  each  seemed  necessary  to  the  other's 
happiness. 

It  has  been  said  that  "prejudice  is  the  meanest  trait  of 
the  human  character,"  and  it  is  even  so.  Prejudice  is  one 
of  the  devil's  best  agencies  to  dwarf  a  human  soul.  It 
shuts  the  door  to  reason,  warps  and  twists  the  imagina 
tion,  makes  bigots  and  fools  out  of  intellects  which  God 
has  created  for  His  glory  and  to  be  a  blessing  to  the 
world.  It  has  been  said  that  "The  worlds  do  move,"  and 
if  that  be  true,  and  human  progress  is  not  a  myth,  then 
the  time  has  come  when,  as  exemplified  in  the  lives  of 
Ruth  and  Marie,  there  should  be  a  growing  together 
of  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  Churches  and  God's  people 
should  be  united  in  holy  unity  and  truth. 


102  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

The  millenium  day  will  be  dawning 
When  the  saints  from  near  and  from  far 

Are  united  in  holy  unity  and  love, 
And  cease  from  vain  striving  and  war. 

Yes,  the  millenium  day  will  be  dawning, 
How  sweetly,  how  gently,  it  will  come! 

God   hasten  the   beautiful   morning 
When  Christ  and  His  people  are  one. 

Oh,  tell  us,  kind  friend  of  the  Master, 

Who  came  so  lowly  and  meek, 
Cradled  by  Mary  in  the  manger, 

And  taught  by  all  wisdom  to  speak. 

The  truth  from  the  father  who  sent  Him, 

The  wonderful  gospel  of  God; 
Are  not  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  religions 

Both  built  on  His  excellent  word? 

How  fervently  Ruth  Mansfield  longed  to  see  Marie 
brought  into  the  kingdom !  It  mattered  not  to  her  under 
what  schism  she  was  baptized  only  so  her  feet  were  plant 
ed  upon  the  foundation,  'The  Rock  Christ  Jesus,  Our 
Lord." 


CHAPTER  X. 

RUTH'S  JUSTIFICATION  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

Time  has  sped  on  and  one  more  decade  has  gone  down 
in  the  chain  of  years  since  Ruth  Mansfield  first  went  into 
service;  and  wonderful  years,  too,  these  have  been  to  her 
who  from  first  to  last  has  maintained  her  own  individuality 
and  inextinguishable  character. 

At  all  times  and  in  all  places  she  has  striven  to  hold 
Labor  on  an  equality  with  Capital,  and  has  stood  by  her 
principles  even  as  Jonathan  stood  by  David  in  indissoluble 
unity. 

Now  as  we  return  to  the  scene  in  our  opening  chapter, 
we  cast  at  her  more  than  a  passing  glance  of  admiration, 
for  the  fame  of  her  lias  gone  abroad  and  her  noble  spirit 
seems  towering  up  like  King  Saul,  head  and  shoulders 
above  other  women  of  the  world. 

The  bell  had  rung  and  the  passengers  arose  to  go  on 
shore  before  Marie  again  spoke.  At  length  she  arose 
and  came  and  stood  by  the  side  of  her  maid,  who  con 
tinued  to  be  interested  in  her  book,  and  said  to  her; 
"Dear  Ruth,  since  we  last  spoke,  I  have  been  trying  to  put 
myself  in  your  place  and  think  about  the  things  in  which 
you  are  interested,  as  you  think  and  argue ;  and  I  confess 
to  you  that  I  can  see  that  the  cause  of  Labor,  in  a  meas 
ure,  is  a  just  cause,  and  I  do  not  wonder  at  the  general 
uprising  on  the  part  of  wage  earners.  But  then,  you  see, 
I  belong  to  the  side  of  Capital,  and  were  I  to  agree  with 
your  arguments  at  all  times,  it  would  seem  foolish,  since 
I  can  not  in  any  way  help  the  cause." 

Ruth  arose  to  her  feet  and  her  great  dark  eyes  looked 


,06  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

most  pleadingly  as  she  replied:  "Oh,  yes,  you  can  do 
something  to  help  on  the  work  of  reform.  The  world  is 
waiting  for  just  such  a  one  as  you  to  come  forward  and, 
in  the  name  of  a  righteous  God,  so  invest  your  money  that 
the  working  people  may  be  lifted  up  instead  of  being 
oppressed.  Dedicate  your  millions  to  the  cause  of  Labor 
and  engage  in  some  enterprise  that  will  give  the  working 
men  and  women  a  chance  with  you  to  earn  their  share  of 
the  profits  accruing  from  the  business. 

"When  the  laborer  can  feel  that  he  is  a  partner  in  the 
enterprise  for  which  he  works,  we  shall  not  any  longer 
hear  him  caviling  about  long  hours,  over-time,  and  all  this 
lament  about  decreased  wages  will  be  forever  at  an  end. 

"If  you  could  bring  yourself  to  enter  into  such  a  com 
pact  with  the  poor,  you  might  become  great  in  the  eyes 
of  the  people  and  God  would  bless  such  a  noble  endeavor 
on  your  part,  and  your  example  would  go  out  over  the 
world  like  an  angel  of  love  and  lead  other  capitalists  to 
do  likewise." 

While  Ruth  was  thus  speaking  the  two  had  passed  from 
the  boat  and  were  now  taking  their  seats  in  the  elegant 
carriage  that  stood  in  waiting  for  them,  with  a  liveried 
coachman  in  the  box.  The  face  of  the  mistress  had  been 
assuming  a  cold,  hard  look,  which  forbade  the  continua 
tion  of  this  appeal  in  behalf  of  the  labor  reform.  While 
the  carriage  thus  stood  in  waiting  for  the  multitudinous 
throng  to  pass  out  of  the  way,  Ruth,  not  willing  to  let  this 
opportunity  go  without  clinching  the  argument,  bent 
forward,  and  taking  Marie's  hand  in  her  own,  said:  "I 
pray  you  do  let  me  talk  to  you,  Miss  Earnestine,  for  God 
has  given  me  the  thought  and  I  am  persuaded  that  were 
you  to  invest  your  life  and  money  for  humanity's  sake 
you  would  never  have  cause  to  regret  it;  no,  not  while 
you  live  in  this  world.  And  in  the  world  to  come,  you 


RUTH'S  JUSTIFICATION  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  107 

could  look  back  upon  the  earth  and  see  countless  millions 
rising  up  to  call  you  blessed  for  what  you  may  do  for  the 
comfort  and  elevation  of  the  laboring  classes." 

Withdrawing  her  hand  from  the  tender  clasp  of  her 
maid,  she  said:  "Ruth!  Why  do  you  so  incessantly 
harass  me  with  such  thoughts?  Such  fanaticism  is  al 
most  unbearable!  I  wish  that  I  had  not  spoken  to  you 
kindly  upon  the  subject.  I  simply  thought  to  redeem 
myself  for  ill  temper  and  make  you  happy  by  an  apology, 
but  you  never  do  take  things  like  other  people."  The 
coachman  put  his  head  in  for  orders,  and  Marie  answered 
him  in  tones  such  as  one  might  use  in  speaking  to  a  dog: 
"Home!"  she  said,  "and  be  quick  about  it,  too,  for  I  am 
tired  of  discords  and  want  the  seclusion  of  my  own  room." 
The  young  man  caught  the  grieved  expression  upon 
Ruth's  face,  and  he  thought,  as  he  mounted  the  box  and 
gave  his  whip  a  crack,  what  a  different  spirit  hers  was 
and  what  it  would  do  for  the  household  if  she  could  only 
change  places  with  the  rich  Miss  Earnestine. 

The  concomitant  relationship  of  these  two  young 
women  thus  conjoined  together  was  and  ever  had  been, 
to  Ruth,  most  uncongenial;  and  at  this  moment  as  she 
looked  into  the  face  of  her  who  sat  opposite  and  thought 
of  the  irascibility  of  her  nature,  and  knew  that  the  young 
lady's  conduct  was  thus  provoked  by  her  own  tender  plea 
for  humanity,  she  thought  her  most  unlovely  and  wished 
that  the  very  Christ,  who  so  immutably  helped  her  to 
keep  in  a  spirit  of  gentleness,  would  come  into  Marie's 
heart  and  make  her  what  she  wished  to  be  thought — a 
gentlewoman,  indeed.  The  two  did  not  again  speak  until 
they  had  driven  to  their  own  door.  The  better  spirit  hav 
ing  again  gotten  the  mastery  in  Miss  Earnestine's  heart, 
she  took  Ruth's  arm  as  they  mounted  the  marble  steps 
together,  and  said:  "Forgive  me,  dear  Ruth,  for  my 


108  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

seeming  rudeness.  I  am  quite  ashamed  when  I  think  of 
my  hot  temper.  You  have  ever  shown  such  gentleness 
and  forbearance  with  me  and  I  do  so  oft  and  repeatedly 
let  you  see  the  worst  side  of  my  nature  that  I  feel  quite 
humiliated  to-day." 

Ruth  accepted  the  apology  and  gently  kissed  the  lips 
that  were  put  up  to  meet  her  own.  But  at  the  same  time 
she  had  during  her  ten  years'  sojourn  with  this  untamed, 
naughty  spirit,  learned  how  to  value  such  words;  and 
they,  with  many  others  uttered  under  similar  circum 
stances,  were  weighed  accordingly.  When  it  comes  to 
the  point  of  touching  the  gold  of  capitalists,  we  find,  as 
Ruth  now  found,  that  the  tongue  often  gets  sadly  out 
of  tune  with  the  heart,  for  avarice  and  greed  are  the  ruling 
powers  that  hold  sway  over  such  a  one.  "You  see,"  con 
tinued  Marie,  as  soon  as  her  wrappings  were  removed, 
"since  papa's  death  I  am  constantly  in  fear  that  some  one 
is  trying  to  rob  me  of  my  fortune,  and  my  sheer  ignorance 
pertaining  to  business  made  me  angry  with  you.  The 
mere  suggestion  of  any  one  that  I  make  investment  of 
capital  is  a  source  of  alarm  to  me;  for,  with  my  lack  of 
knowledge  pertaining  to  business,  I  feel  very  sure  that  I 
would  make  a  failure  of  whatever  I  might  undertake." 

"But,  Miss  Earnestine,  it  is  your  privilege  to  know. 
God  has  endowed  you  with  intelligence  and  given  you 
opportunity  above  many  of  your  fellows.  What  have  you 
been  doing  with  your  good  chance  in  the  world?  Did 
you  not  expect  to  be  left  some  day  with  the  fortune  upon 
your  hands?  And  do  you  not  know  that  the  world  is 
full  of  ravenous  wolves  that  stand  like  a  pair  of  hungry 
jaws  to  swallow  you  up  with  all  you  have?  How  can 
you  expect  to  hold  and  control  that  which  you  are  now 
possessed  of  unless  you  are  master  of  the  situation?  My 
dear  girl,  you  had  better  apply  yourself  to  know  wisdom 


RUTH'S  JUSTIFICATION  OP  THE  PEOPLE.  109 

and  cultivate  a  spirit  of  independence  if  you  ever  hope  to 
succeed  in  life,  for  gold  without  knowledge  is  a  snare 
and  a  delusion  that  will  only  lead  you  into  greater  depths 
of  unrest.  Very  soon  I  must  leave  you  in  pursuit  of 
another  calling  which  I  have  chosen,  and  I  tremble  for 
your  future  if  you  continue  in  this  indolent  way  in  which 
you  have  lived  ever  since  I  first  knew  you." 

Marie  burst  into  tears,  and  throwing  her  arms  about 
her  maid,  exclaimed:  "Oh,  Ruth!  Do  not  say  such  a 
dreadful  thing,  you  who  have  ever  been  so  kind  to  me! 
How  can  I  do  without  you  upon  whom  I  have  so  long 
depended?  Promise  me,  dear,  that  you  will  not  leave 
my  employ  until  I  am  settled  in  life  with  a  companion 
who  will  be  better  able  to  counsel  me  than  you  have  been." 

"No,  Marie,  I  can  not  promise  you  that,  for  I  feel  that 
God  is  calling  me  out  into  the  work  of  reform  and  I 
must  go;  for  unless  we  can  in  some  way  bring  about 
a  peaceful  arbitration  between  Capital  and  Labor,  I  would 
not  give  much  for  your  fortune  in  a  few  years  from  now. 
The  work  of  ramification,  under  the  direction  of  strongly 
organized  bodies,  has  already  begun,  and  these  people 
of  our  country  who  are  at  war  with  Capital,  will  not  care 
any  more  for  your  interests  in  a  little  time  than  you  now 
care  for  their  comfort  and  happiness." 

"But,  Ruth,  it  is  often  the  profligacy  of  the  lower  classes 
that  has  brought  them  to  poverty  and  want,  and  not  the 
oppression  of  Capital." 

"That  is  true,  Marie,  but  men,  like  sheep,  have  gone 
astray,  and  not  being  willing  to  be  led  by  our  nation's 
counselors,  are  preparing,  by  physical  force,  to  bring 
about  a  better  adjustment  of  things,  and  the  wage  worker 
and  American  can  no  longer  remain  oblivious  to  the 
fact." 

Marie's  cheeks  blanched  at  the  girl's  words  so  earnest- 


110  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

ly  spoken,  and  she  sank  into  a  chair  by  her  side.  At 
length  she  said:  "Dear  Ruth,  I  had  grown  to  think  that 
your  life  and  mine  were  inseparable,  but  somehow  your 
words  have  in  them  a  foreboding  which  falls  like  a  weight 
upon  my  soul." 

Then  clasping  her  hands  together,  she  continued:  "May 
the  good  God  in  whom  you  so  fervently  trust  prevent  such 
a  calamity  as  you  suggest  to  the  capitalists  of  the  country, 
and  especially  to  me — a  poor  helpless  woman!" 

A  satisfied  look  rested  upon  Ruth's  face  when  she  heard 
Marie  quote  from  holy  writ:  "When  them  wast  in  trou 
ble,  thou  didst  call  on  me."  In  her  response  she  said: 
"Marie,  this  is  the  first  time  in  all  these  ten  years  that  I 
have  been  with  you  that  I  have  ever  heard  you  reverent 
ly  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.  Do  you  know,  that 
in  my  soul  I  desire  to  see  this  revolution  which  is  just 
now  beginning  to  roll  over  the  land  come  hastening  on, 
for  when  it  is  well  upon  us  it  will  send  more  capitalists  than 
yourself  trembling  to  investigate  the  situation.  It  is  the 
world-wide  boast  of  America  that  ours  is  a  Christian  na 
tion.  Why!  right  here  in  San  Francisco,  this  boasted 
city  of  the  Pacific  slope,  the  population  is  increasing 
twenty-two  times  as  fast  as  the  church  of  God,  while  prin 
cipalities  and  powers  of  darkness  reign  in  the  hearts  of 
the  unchurched  masses. 

"Much  of  this  degeneracy  on  the  Pacific  Coast  can  be 
charged  up  to  Capital,  whose  spoiliation  of  the  poor  is 
perpetuated  through  the  wine  industry,  and  is  crowding 
the  masses  down  and  out  and  raising  such  a  barrier  be 
tween  the  people  that  it  were  not  possible  for  the  poor 
to  find  intromission  into  any  circle  of  wealth.  Can  you 
wonder,  Marie,  that  Labor  is  mad?  Will  you  wonder 
when  you  see  the  uprising  of  the  unchurched  masses  and 
suffer  their  rebellion  against  the  rum  power?" 


RUTH'S  JUSTIFICATION  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  Ill 

A  cynical  smile  rested  upon  Marie's  countenance  as 
she  replied:  "I  do  not  see  why  men  should  rebel  against 
the  power  that  is  enthroned  and  perpetuated  by  their  own 
hand.  The  traffic  in  ardent  spirits  could  not  live  were 
it  not  supported  by  the  laboring  classes!  Why  should 
you  blame  men  for  being  capitalists  when  they  are  made 
so  by  the  free  consent  of  the  people?" 

"Yes,  Marie,  I  thoroughly  understand  how  monopolies 
are  made  and  perpetuated;  but  because  Labor,  through 
ignorance,  is  willing  to  cast  itself  in  chains,  is 
that  any  reason  why  Capital  should  continue  to  glut 
itself  upon  their  strength  and  for  gold  to  hazard  the 
welfare  of  a  nation  and  make  its  people  menial? 
For  ten  years  I  have  tried  to  see  and  argue  in  all  kind 
ness  these  points  of  justice  to  the  poor.  You  have  ever 
repulsed  my  arguments  and  steadily  held  the  dividing 
line  in  your  own  hand  that  has  shut  me  out  of  the  wealthy 
circles  of  society;  and  only  just  so  far  as  I  have  been  able 
to  minister  unto  your  pleasure  and  profit,  have  I  been 
intromitted  into  the  higher  circles  of  life.  You  have, 
therefore,  put  me  upon  the  same  level  socially  as  those 
who  are  menial  through  the  use  of  strong  drink.  And 
just  as  it  has  been  between  yourself  and  myself,  so  it  is 
to-day  throughout  the  land  between  the  rich  and  the 
poor.  And  I  can  tell  you,  Marie,  the  only  prevenient 
method  that  will  save  society  from  disaster  and  bring 
about  a  peaceful  arbitration  between  Capital  and  Labor 
will  be  for  capitalists  to  acknowledge  the  rights  of  the 
people  and  allow  purity  and  intelligence  to  be  crowned 
as  nobility  before  wealth,  instead  of  debarring  us  as  they 
now  do  from  our  rightful  inheritance  in  the  land. 

"Money  is  good  and  the  world  has  always  had  its  rich 
men  and  women;  even  Deborah  of  old,  who  was  a  mother, 


112  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

judge  and  deliverer  of  her  people,  was  a  woman  of  wealth. 
A  Jacob,  a  David,  a  Job  and  a  host  of  others  lived  and 
verily  they  did  God's  service  with  their  wealth.  And  to 
day  the  workingman  has  no  quarrel  with  Capital  from 
the  fact  that  he  is  a  laborer,  but  his  plea  is  for  justice  and 
equality  to  all  men." 

Marie  arose  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room  with  a 
deeper  thought  than  had  ever  before  taken  possession  of 
her  gay  and  giddy  heart.  Finally  she  paused  before  her 
maid  and  said:  "Ruth,  I  have  never  heard  such  argu 
ments  as  yours,  and  while  I  believe  you  to  be  speaking  in 
all  candor,  yet  I  can  not  believe  that  things  are  half  as  bad 
as  you  paint  them." 

Ruth  arose  and  stood  before  the  young  capitalist,  and 
in  a  strange,  hushed  whisper,  said:  ''Marie,  don't  you 
hear  the  low  muttering  of  thunder  as  it  rolls  through  the 
political  world  and  reverberates  again  from  ocean  to 
ocean?  Can't  you  see  the  flashing  of  lightning  in  public 
sentiment?  It  comes  with  such  blinding  force  that  it 
nearly  extinguishes  the  reasoning  of  men.  Have  you  not 
seen  the  ramification  of  political  parties?  I  tell  you, 
Marie,  we  are  just  entering  into  one  of  the  grandest  revo 
lutionary  storms  that  has  ever  swept  over  the  heart  of 
the  world.  Don't,  I  pray  you,  listen  to  my  words,  but 
look  out  upon  our  troubled  land  and  believe  that  God  is 
with  his  people." 

The  girl's  voice  had  in  it  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  which 
made  deep  impression  upon  the  mind  of  her  companion ; 
and  as  she  continued  Marie  superstitiously  glanced  over 
her  shoulder  and  said:  "Dear  Ruth,  your  words  sound 
to  me  like  the  prophecy  of  old  and  you  make  me  afraid. 
Come,  let  us  change  the  subject,  for  I  think  I  am  getting 
hysteria.  Take  hold  of  me,  dear,  and  see  if  I  am  really 


RUTH'S  JUSTIFICATION  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  113 

myself.  Somehow  I  feel  as  if  I  had  caught  your  spirit 
of  reform  and  should  begin  to  talk  for  the  labor  reform 
myself." 

Ruth  laughed  joyously  and  replied:  "Well,  dear,  I 
trust  that  the  blessed  Lord  who  has  so  molded  my  spirit 
as  to  make  me  desire  to  be  a  revolutionist,  will  not  only 
make  your  tongue  to  talk  but  will  make  you  a  reformer  of 
public  morals  as  well,  and  your  heart  to  love,  as  mine 
does,  for  humanity's  sake." 

Tears  glistened  in  Marie's  eyes  and  her  lips  trembled 
with  emotion,  as  she  came  close  to  Ruth's  side  and  laid 
her  head  upon  her  shoulder,  saying:  "Here  I  am,  dear; 
teach  me  how  to  love  the  people  as  you  love  them  and 
half  my  fortune  shall  be  yours.  Noble  girl  that  you  are ! 
In  all  the  years  that  I  have  known  you  I  have  yet  to 
detect  one  single  selfish  act.  The  world  is  your  country 
and  the  poor  and  friendless  are  the  first  for  whom  you 
think.  I  would  that  God  had  created  me  with  a  soul  like 
yours!" 

Ruth  bowed  her  head  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon 
Marie's  brow.  Maid  and  mistress  from  that  moment 
stood  upon  the  same  social  plane  together.  Love,  that 
had  often  fallen  bleeding  at  her  feet,  had  at  last  found  the 
key  to  Marie  Earnestine's  proud  heart  ana  her  face  was 
turned  toward  humanity  and  God. 


MARIE    OUT    SHOPPING 


CHAPTER  XL 

MARIE'S   CONFESSION. 

A  few  days  after  the  conversation  recorded  in  the  pre 
ceding  chapter,  Ruth  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  have 
Marie,  so  changed  and  beautiful,  come  into  her  room  and 
in  a  spirit  of  gentleness  born  of  love,  lean  her  head  upon 
her  bosom.  Gently  loving  arms  were  twined  about  her 
and  Ruth  whispered:  "What  is  it,  Marie,  dear?  Can  I 
do  anything  for  you?" 

For  a  moment  the  mistress  of  Palace  Earnestine  stood 
there  with  her  face  buried  in  the  bosom  of  her  maid  and 
then  she  whispered:  "Dear  Ruth,  I  have  a  secret  that 
I  can  not  tell  to  any  one  but  you."  The  gentle  pressure 
of  loving  arms  gave  her  assurance,  and  bringing  an  otto 
man,  she  seated  herself  at  Ruth's  knee  and  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life  looked  up  into  her  face  with  that  con 
fiding  trust  that  a  little  child  will  place  in  a  mother,  and 
began:  "Ruth,  help  me.  How  can  I  begin  to  tell  you 
what  is  upon  my  heart?  Can  I  trust  you?" 

Tenderly  Ruth  took  her  face  between  her  hands  and 
gently  drew  her  to  her  bosom.  With  all  Marie's  faults, 
Ruth  really  had  for  the  girl  a  most  tender  affection.  Now 
at  this  moment,  when  she  had  come  so  humbly  suing  for 
sympathy,  she  felt  an  overwhelming  love  stealing  into 
her  heart  which  was  almost  unexplainable.  Winding  her 
arms  more  tenderly  about  her,  she  replied:  "Trust  me, 
Marie?  Of  course  you  can  trust  me.  Have  I  not  ever 
and  at  all  times  been  your  friend?" 

"Yes,  you  have  been  my  friend ;  but  it  would  be  easier 
for  me  now  if  you  had  not,  for  then  I  could  feel  that  I 


116  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

was  your  equal.  Now  I  know  that  when  you  hear  my 
tale  that  you  will  in  your  heart  despise  one  so  weak  and 
full  of  error.  I  have  ever  known  that  you  were  my  su 
perior,  both  in  intellect  and  in  pureness  of  heart.  In  my 
ignorance  I  thought  to  humble  and  keep  you  down  by 
making  you  continually  to  feel  the  difference  in  our  sta 
tions  in  life.  But  you  know,  dear  Ruth,  that  I  have  loved 
you,  else  long  ago  I  would  have  sent  you  away  from  me. 
You  have  been  so  kind  not  to  leave  nor  forsake  me  when 
you  could  have  done  so  much  better  in  life  than  to  remain 
here,  I  now  acknowledge  all  my  faults  and  tell  you  that 
I  am  heartily  sorry  for  them." 

The  tears  were  rolling  down  Ruth's  cheeks  as  she  said: 
"Dear  Marie,  be  assured  that  you  are  forgiven  for  every 
mistake  of  your  life.  It  has  been  my  love  for  you  and 
my  tender  thought  for  your  welfare  that  has  kept  me 
by  your  side." 

Here  Ruth  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  her  cheek,  whose 
blush  told  of  shame  and  sorrow  for  past  naughtiness. 
"Tell  me,  Marie,  what  is  the  burden  that  is  weighing  upon 
your  mind  and  what  I  can  do  to  help  you." 

For  a  moment  her  head  was  bowed  low  and  then  writh 
a  trustful  look  into  Ruth's  dark  eyes  she  began:  "You 
remember,  dear,  that  when  we  were  abroad  I  met  Earnest 
Stocklaid.  You  know  him  to  be  an  educated  and  polished 
gentleman.  For  him  I  formed  a  strong  and  lasting  at 
tachment.  He  was  noble  and  good.  After  walking  and 
driving  with  him  I  grew  to  feel  that  life  would  be  sweeter 
because  of  his  existence.  Our  friendship,  of  course,  mer 
ited  the  highest  approval  of  Aunt  Langsford,  who  is 
anxious  that  I  should  be  united  in  marriage  to  some  good 
man  while  she  was  yet  alive  and  with  me.  It  is  sufficient 
for  me  to  say  that  Earnest  sought  my  hand  and  was  for 
mally  accepted.  The  wedding  was  to  have  taken  place 


MARIE'S  CONFESSION.  Ill 

shortly  after  our  arrival  home  in  America.  But,  as  you 
know,  papa's  sickness  hastened  our  return.  This  and 
the  disgraceful  conduct  of  Earnest  at  the  farewell  banquet 
in  Germany  (here  Marie's  cheeks  crimsoned  of  the  re 
membrance  of  the  occasion  of  that  disgrace)  has  caused 
me  to  put  off  the  time  from  year  to  year  with  the  hope 
that  I  might  yet  persuade  him  to  consent  to  the  breaking 
of  our  engagement.  He  is  unwilling  to  give  me  up,  but 
I  have  entreated  him  to  stay  abroad  and  not  return  until 
I  was  ready  to  give  myself  in  wedlock.  I  set  the  time 
for  our  wedding  day  and  wrote  to  my  betrothed  to  return 
to  America  and  that  we  would  be  united  at  once  in  mar 
riage.  Upon  his  arrival  home  I  have  found,  to  my  deep 
regret,  that  he  is  still  addicted  to  the  use  of  ardent  spirits 
and  is,  in  fact,  a  periodical  drunkard.  • 

"When  I  discovered  this  I  was  brave  enough  to  break 
our  engagement  and  forbade  him  to  come  near  me  again, 
but,  Ruth,  he  comes  here  still  and  will  not  stay  away.  I 
have  repeatedly  refused  to  see  him,  but  still  he  comes  and 
pleads  for  my  hand.  He  says:  'Just  try  me,  Miss  Earn- 
estine,  and  when  we  are  once  married  I  shall  love  you  so 
well  that  I  shall  never  want  to  taste  intoxicants  again.' 
Oh,  Ruth,  I  love  him  so!  What  can  I  do?"  Burying 
her  head  in  Ruth's  lap,  she  murmured,  "Ora  pro  nobis," 
and  sobbed  most  bitterly. 

For  some  moments  Ruth  did  not  speak,  but  tenderly 
stroked  the  silken  tresses  of  the  weeping  girl.  At  length 
she  said:  "Marie,  your  words  are  puzzling.  What  do 
you  wish  me  to  say  to  you?  Surely  you  do  not  want  me 
to  encourage  you  to  yield  to  the  inclination  of  your  heart 
and  become  a  drunkard's  wife." 

"But,"  sobbed  Marie,  "you  know,  dear  Ruth,  it  was  my 
own  hand  that  gave  him  his  first  glass !  And  he  says  that 
since  he  fell  by  my  solicitation,  I  must  have  pity  upon  him 


118  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

and  share  his  fate.  Oh,  Ruth!  help  me,  for  every  day 
I  feel  that  my  power  of  resistance  is  less  firm  and  my 
pity  deeper  and  deeper  for  Earnest  Stocklaid.  God  help 
me!  What  can  I  do?" 

Again  Ruth  mentally  quoted:  "When  thou  wast  in 
trouble,  then  thou  didst  call  on  me."  Tenderly  winding 
her  arms  about  the  girl,  Ruth  said:  "I  do  not  know,  my 
dear,  what  I  can  do  to  help  you,  but  you  have  called  upon 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  if  you  ask  Him  in  spirit  and  in 
truth,  He  will  surely  show  you  the  way.  The  whole  trend 
of  your  life  since  I  first  knew  you,  Marie,  has  but  tended 
to  this  moment  of  pain.  So  oft  have  I  warned  you  of  the 
wine  cup,  and  the  danger  to  yourself  and  loved  ones. 
Now  in  this  dire  calamity  which  has  befallen  you,  what 
can  I  offer  to  soothe  your  pain  or  ease  your  aching  heart? 
But,  dear  girl,  I  will  say  this:  Do  not  marry  Earnest 
Stocklaid  unless  you  wish  to  multiply  your  sorrows  a 
millionfold.  You  may  love  him  devotedly,  but  it  is  bet 
ter  to  remain  as  you  are  than  to  marry  a  drunkard  and 
give  to  the  world  a  posterity,  such  as  you  would  evidently 
do,  from  such  a  union." 

"But,"  sobbed  Marie,  "it  was  my  hand  that  pressed 
the  first  cup  to  his  lips!  And  can  I  turn  from  him  now? 
How  truly  the  apostle  spoke  when  he  said:  Tf  ye  sow 
to  the  wind,  ye  shall  reap  the  whirlwind.'  "  How  often  the 
sayings  of  the  blessed  book  are  verified  in  the  lives  of 
men!  Yet  how  loth  are  we  to  believe  until  we  are  en 
gulfed  in  the  deepest  sorrow  and  compelled  to  acknowl 
edge  the  truths  of  God's  words! 

Ruth  caressed  the  suffering  girl  whose  spirit  was  wrung 
and  twisted  by  the  lightnings  of  remorse  as  she  struggled 
between  doubt  and  duty,  and  said :  "God  help  you,  dear, 
for  I  do  not  know  how  to  advise,  and  none  but  God  alone 
can  lead  you  into  the  way  that  is  right." 


MARIE'S  CONFESSION.  119 

For  a  long  time  Marie  sat  with  her  face  buried  in  her 
hands  sobbing  upon  Ruth's  knee.  At  last  she  lifted  her 
head  and  murmured:  "Oh,  if  I  had  only  listened  to  your 
warning,  how  happy  I  would  be!  I  have  ever  known 
that  you  were  right,  but  the  promptings  of  my  heart 
would  not  let  me  yield  to  your  entreaties.  Now  I  feel  I 
must  accept  the  inevitable  and  become  the  wife  of  a  drunk 
ard.  I  may  have  been  ignorant  and  willful,  but  I  will  not 
be  absolutely  wicked.  Earnest  Stocklaid  is  noble  enough. 
I  will  cover  his  weakness  with  my  love." 

It  was  now  Ruth's  turn  to  weep.  "Marie,"  she  said, 
"I  am  sorry  for  your  sin  and  sorry  for  the  disconsolate 
young  man,  but,  dear  girl,  as  you  prize  your  own  happi 
ness  and  that  of  your  children  yet  unborn,  do  not  this 
thing  that  will  make  you  miserable  all  the  years  of  your 
life!" 

Marie  arose,  and  one  could  see  by  the  firm  lines  about 
her  mouth  that  her  resolution  was  made  and  that  she 
was  prepared  to  meet  her  fate,  whatever  it  might  be.  Ere 
she  passed  out  she  turned  and  took  the  hand  of  Ruth 
and  said:  "Fear  not  for  me,  gentle  Ruth,  for  if  I  bring 
shame  and  disgrace  upon  my  own  head  and  fill  my  own 
heart  with  misery,  then  know,  you  dear  one,  that  you  are 
free  from  the  sin,  for  your  warnings  are  imprinted  on 
every  fiber  of  my  heart,  while  over  against  each  one  is 
written  the  one  word,  unheeded!" 

She  finished  the  sentence  with  quivering  lip,  then  passed 
out  from  Ruth's  presence  with  her  proud  head  bowed  low 
and  the  aristocratic  spirit  more  subdued  than  at  any  pre 
vious  time  in  her  life. 

We  have  seen  Marie  Earnestine  as  a  proud,  arrogant 
child,  with  apparently  but  little  sympathy  in  her  nature. 
We  now  see  depth  to  her  character  and  a  finer  womanhood 
than  one  could  suppose.  Coming,  as  she  had,  from  a 


120 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


proud,  aristocratic  race,  she  had  a  heritage  hard  to  over 
come.  Nothing  but  the  refiner's  fire  and  a  chisel  in 
the  hand  of  the  Lord  could  ever  have  molded  a  heart  like 
hers.  The  will  that  can  neither  bend  nor  break  must 
wear  away;  and  the  continual  hammering  of  God's  love 
upon  the  heart  will  shiver  an  adamantine  rock.  Hers 
must  break,  for  Marie  Earnestine  in  a  new  and  bitter 
sphere  will  some  day  bless  the  \vorld  with  good. 

Ruth  had  undertaken  a  herculean  task  to  argue  the 
ways  of  righteousness  with  this  stubborn  will,  but  at 
last  she  could  begin  to  see  that  her  efforts  had  not  been 
in  vain. 


WHERE    IS    OUR    PAPA    TO-NIGHT? 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  GREAT  PROBLEM. 

The  great  Northwest  was  calling  for  a  leader  in-  the 
work  of  reform.  Some  one  was  needed  with  a  clear  head 
and  a  well-defined  purpose  who  would  go  forth  in  the 
name  of  humanity  and  labor  for  the  education  of  the  in 
dustrial  classes. 

The  name  of  Ruth  Mansfield  had  been  mentioned  to  the 
agitators  of  the  movement.  Great  efforts  were  also  being 
put  forth  to  discover  the  one  who  was  wielding  the  pen 
so  mightily  in  the  interests  of  labor.  While  this  inquiry 
was  going  on,  and  the  leaders  of  the  reform  were  making 
diligent  search  to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  the  one 
whose  pen  was  turning  the  world  upside  down,  Ruth 
sat  behind  the  scenes  and  calmly  smiled  as  she  continued 
to  send  forth  her  white-winged  messengers  to  breathe 
harmony  into  the  aggrieved  spirits  of  the  industrial  world. 
She  now  felt  that  the  time  had  come  when  she  could  no 
longer  remain  in  seclusion,  and  yet  she  had  many  grave 
thoughts  about  this  publicity,  this  undertaking.  The 
world,  it  seemed  to  her,  was  in  a  state  of  fermentation; 
hearts  were  being  tried  as  at  no  previous  time  in  the 
world's  history;  and  she  could  see,  as  her  master  spirit 
towered  up  above  the  nations  of  the  world  and  looked 
down  upon  the  aggressive  movements,  that  the  time  had 
come  for  a  general  round-up — a  time  when  the  working 
people  of  all  lands  should  arise  in  the  dignity  of  freedom 
and  maintain  their  equality  with  Capital.  She  saw  that 
the  time  had  come  when  the  American  people  should 


124  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

cease  to  worship  gold,  and  true  honor  should  be  given  to 
right  royal  labor. 

Should  she  heed  the  call?  The  question  was  growing 
to  be  one  of  momentous  interest  to  hers  Could  she  go 
forth  in  the  name  of  the  great  Author  and  Leader  of  the 
nations  and  with  the  undaunted  courage  of  womanhood, 
hope  to  effect  good  in  the  world?  She  paused,  waited 
and  listened  for  the  voice  of  the  spirit  whose  counsel  is 
sure  and  never  erring.  At  last  a  spirit  of  help  luminates 
her  soul  and  she  can  hear  from  the  watch  tower  the  rus 
tling  of  wings  as  the  unseen  hosts  of  heaven  come  sweep 
ing  earthward  to  give  strength  in  her  weakness  and  nerve 
to  her  purpose  in  life.  Yes,  she  would  prepare  to  accept 
the  call  and  in  her  weakness  do  what  she  could. 

But  how  to  begin  she  could  not  tell;  for  as  she  arose 
to  contemplate  the  calling  and  to  begin  the  work  of  mar 
shaling  the  hosts,  she  could  hear  the  discordant  swell  of 
multitudinous  voices  that  were  out  of  harmony  with  the 
good  God  who  has  sent  His  hosts  from  the  glory  world 
to  intercede  for  the  oppressed,  to  labor  for  the  people  and 
the  best  interests  of  their  country.  Out  of  harmony  with 
Him  whose  hand  is  stretched  forth  to  bless  "both  the  just 
and  the  unjust  alike."  It  seemed  to  her  in  this  moment 
of  contemplation  that  the  Americans  with  their  hollow 
and  vaunted  show  on  the  side  of  aristocracy,  and  the  work 
ing  people  on  the  other,  could  be  likened  to  a  harmonium 
of  human  souls  which  the  divine  spirit  of  the  heavens 
was  sweeping  over  the  keys,  blending  together  in  melody 
cries  of  woe  and  exultation  and  joy  as  He  was  ushering 
in  the  morning  dawn  of  the  new  dispensation.  Ruth 
Mansfield  felt  that  she  was  but  one  key  in  this  great  hu 
man  instrument,  and  that  under  His  divine  touch  she 
must  not  give  forth  one  uncertain  sound.  She  is  now 
about  to  launch  forth  upon  the  world,  a  leader  in  the  great 


THE  GREAT  PROBLEM.  125 

reforms  of  her  day.  She  means  that  her  generalship 
shall  be  felt  upon  all  classes  of  society,  and  that  her  mis 
sion  shall  be  to  breathe  harmony  into  the  world. 

Would  her  efforts  prove  vain?  She  could  not  tell;  but 
with  a  great  purpose  in  view  she  mounted  upon  her  milk- 
white  steed  of  human  love  and  came  forth  from  her  hiding 
place,  announcing  herself  ready  to  enter  the  field  in  the 
interests  of  Labor. 

Electrifying  the  masses,  she  encompassed  the  city  round 
about,  scattering  her  thoughts  like  rain-drops  and  leaving 
the  imprint  of  her  touch  upon  the  hand  of  every  wage 
worker  by  the  way.  She  had  begun  her  work  without 
any  decisory  plan,  and  now  felt  that  her  first  duty  must 
be  to  investigate  the  spirit  of  the  clans  and  to  look  up  the 
interests  involved  in  such  organizations.  With  the  zeal  of 
ten  thousand  spirits,  she  began  her  work  with  a  faith,  feel 
ing  sure  that  within  the  rough  and  uncultured  spirits  of 
men  she  should  find  a  courage,  undaunted  and  true. 
With  a  comprehension  of  existing  evils  and  of  national 
difficulties  which  seemed  far  beyond  her  years,  she  first 
began  her  work  upon  the  streets  of  San  Francisco.  En 
compassing  the  city  round  about,  looking  into  the  jaws 
of  the  lion  "who  hath  the  cheek  teeth  of  a  great  lion,"  in 
the  form  of  half  a  thousand  drinking  saloons,  dives  and 
gambling  dens,  and  understanding  that  the  greatest  sup 
porters  of  these  places  of  iniquity  were  the  very  men  for 
whom  she  was  called  to  labor,  she  cried  mightily  unto  the 
Lord  for  strength  and  wisdom  to  reach  and  teach  the 
people. 

She  sallied  forth  upon  the  streets,  following  the  plan 
of  the  meek  and  lowly  Nazarene,  who  left  his  Father  in 
Heaven  and  came  down  to  preach  and  to  teach  to  fallen 
men. 

As  her  translucent  spirit  shed  its  light  upon  the  hearts 


126  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

and  lives  of  the  gregarious  multitude  who  flocked  togeth 
er  like  herds  upon  the  street,  hungry,  half  clothed,  and 
shivering  with  cold,  she  began  her  work  of  infusing  into 
their  minds  a  spirit  of  enlightenment  pertaining  to  their 
oppressed  condition,  and  a  desire  for  higher  and  better 
religious,  social  and  educational  attainments.  Her  argu 
ments  were  burdened  with  the  saying  "In  union  there  is 
strength,"  and  noting  the  clans,  she  cried:  "Come,  my 
people,  let  us  bind  into  one  concrete  body  the  various 
coalescent  bodies  and  through  a  united  effort  begin  the 
declaration  of  political  power;  and  thereby  break  down 
the  whisky  monopoly,  that  is  grinding  the  face  of  the 
poor  and  perpetuating  the  saloon,  which  is  our  country's 
greatest  enemy." 

Great  was  her  rejoicing  when  she  beheld  the  forces  and 
saw  them  welded  together.  This  reform  party  had  an 
object  so  noble  and  a  purpose  so  true  that  even  angels 
looked  down  and  added  their  benediction  as  they  saw 
the  work  of  ramification  and  corrupt  politicians  trembling 
before  the  young  and  aggressive  men  of  the  land.  Now 
and  again  she  was  able  to  catch  the  ear  of  some  monopo 
list  and  by  much  ingenuity  lead  him  to  see  the  advancing 
army,  the  superstructure  of  political  reform  builded  upon 
the  solid  foundation. 

Yes,  Ruth  Mansfield  had  heard  the  call,  and  with  a 
burning  desire  in  her  soul  to  see  a  proper  adjustment  of 
national  affairs  when  Labor  shall  be  crowned  with  wis 
dom,  she  had  cried:  "Aux  armes!"  and  rushed  forth  at 
duty's  call,  fighting  .with  woman's  strongest  weapon  in 
warfare — love. 

Coming  into  Marie's  dormitory  a  few  mornings  after 
the  incidents  recorded  in  the  preceding  chapter  wherein 
the  proud  mistress  of  Palace  Earnestine  had  laid  her  heart 
bare  before  Ruth,  she  said:  "My  dear  Marie,  I  have  at 


THE  GREAT  PROBLEM.  127 

last  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  your  employ,  and  in  a 
few  days  shall  go  out  in  the  interests  of  our  nation's 
work  to  lecture."  Marie's  face  expressed  sorrow  at  the 
thought  of  giving  up  such  a  valuable  friend  as  Ruth ;  for 
she  had  grown  to  feel  not  only  her  dependence  upon  but 
real,  true  love  for  the  girl.  Her  irrepressible  spirit  had 
shown  her  herself  as  she  was  and  many  things  pertaining 
to  true  womanhood  which  without  her  she  would  prob 
ably  have  never  known.  Marie  made  a  strong  remon 
strance  against  her  chosen  vocation,  at  which  the  girl 
smiled  as  she  replied:  "You  will  not  always  feel  as  you 
do  now,  Marie;  and  in  the  time  to  come  when  you  are 
changed,  you  will  come  and  stand  by  my  side  in  this  great 
and  good  work  for  God  and  country." 

The  proud  young  dame  shook  her  head  incredulously 
at  the  girl  and  replied:  "That  may  be  true,  Ruth,  but  it 
is  my  opinion  that  your  hair  and  mine  will  both  turn  gray 
long  before  Marie  Earnestine  ever  becomes  a  public  re 
former." 

"Don't  be  sure  of  that,"  said  Ruth.  "Why,  dear!  I  can 
almost  see  you  with  me  now."  And  interrogatively  she 
continued:  "Who  shall  say  that  your  splendid  fortune 
shall  not  some  day  be  dedicated  to  this  blessed  work  for 
humanity?" 

Again  Marie's  face  darkened,  but  in  remembrance  of 
that  other  time  when  she  failed  to  conquer  her  anger, 
thought  well  before  she  answered:  "No,  Ruth,  my  mon 
ey  will  never  be  used  for  any  such  purpose.  Think  you 
that  I  could  do  so  foolishly  as  to  support  or  strengthen 
the  very  enemy  that  is  fighting  against  me?  Why,  only 
yesterday,  Mr.  Jack  Halstead,  my  business  agent,  brought 
me  tidings  and  came  for  counsel,  saying  that  all  the  men  in 
my  manufacturing  establishment  had  gone  on  a  strike 
demanding  shorter  hours  and  an  increase  in  wages.  No, 


128  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

indeed !  I  shall  never  do  any  such  a  thing,  nor  in  any  waj; 
strive  to  bring  such  rapacious  wretches  up  to  an  equality 
with  myself." 

Ruth's  laugh  had  in  it  an  ominous  ring.  "Well,  dear, 
you  may  count  yourself  happy  now  that  they  only  want 
an  increase  in  the  wage;  ere  long  they  will  ask  you  for 
their  share  of  the  increase  of  the  capital.  Yea,  and  they 
will  demand  it,  too!" 

"But,  Ruth,  they  are  in  the  wrong." 

"That  is  very  true,  Marie,  but  when  men  are  mad  and 
ignorant  there  is  no  limit  to  their  demands;  and  if  Capital 
is  wise  it  will  strive  by  some  means  to  arbitrate  with  La 
bor  and  come  to  a  better  understanding  of  wherein  the 
wrong  lies." 

And  then  in  a  milder  tone  she  continued:  "In  what 
way,  Marie,  are  these  brave,  brawny  workingmen  who 
are  spending  their  lives  at  hard  labor  for  the  purpose  of 
increasing  your  capital  and  for  the  mere  pittance  that 
they  receive  from  you,  inferior  to  yourself?  Answer  me 
if  you  can.  You  are  a  free-born  American  and  so  are 
they!  In  this  land  where  nothing  can  elevate  one  person 
above  another  but  intelligence  and  purity  of  heart,  how 
is  it  that  you  draw  a  line  between  yourself  and  your  em 
ployes  and  put  Marie  Earnestine  at  the  top?  You  have 
gold,  but  that  does  not  make  you  better  than  your  fel 
lows,  neither  can  it  bless  you,  for  only  as  you  pay  it  out 
to  your  employes  can  it  be  made  to  serve  you.  Gold 
can  neither  sow  nor  spin,  and  this  unwieldy  mass  of 
wealth  you  possess  could  not  put  a  crumb  into  your 
mouth  nor  a  cup  of  water  to  your  parched  lips.  No! 
not  if  you  were  dying  of  thirst.  No,  Marie,  it  is  men  that 
make  you  rich!  Men!  Not  gold!  Without  these  men 
you  call  wretches,  my  dear,  you  would  be  poorer  than 
they,  for  their  hands  are  skilled  in  labor,  while  a  work  stain 


THE  GREAT  PROBLEM.  129 

never  yet  has  soiled  your  own.  You  may  have  a  knowl 
edge  of  books,  may  have  mastered  languages  and  ac 
quired  a  degree  of  literature,  but  if  the  galaxy  of  servants 
from  the  mansion  were  to  leave  you  to-day,  just  think 
how  helpless  you  would  be!  You  can  not  cook  nor  sew; 
your  mind  has  never  yet  grasped  the  first  rudiment  of 
business.  A  poor,  helpless  woman  you  are,  entirely  at 
the  mercy  of  Labor.  The  farmer  gathers  his  corn  from 
the  shocks. of  golden  husks;  it  is  loaded  upon  the  wagon 
and  drawn  to  the  market  place.  For  want  of  care  and 
consideration  on  the  part  of  the  husbandman,  one  ear 
falls  to  the  roadside  and  is  crushed  by  the  foot  of  man  and 
beast;  the  other  is  sold  in  the  market  place,  is  ground  into 
meal  and  is  made  into  bread  for  rosy-cheeked  children. 
Can  you  say  that  both  have  fulfilled  their  mission?  Had 
not  the  hapless  one  that  fell  by  the  wayside  the  same  right 
to  care  and  protection  as  the  one  that  was  ground  by 
pearly  teeth?  Shall  we  call  a  man  a  rapacious  wretch 
because  he  clamors  for  his  right  to  care  and  protection? 
We  tell  you,  no!  God  forbid  that  these  things  should 
be!  And  He  has  forbidden  it.  God,  who  is  the  warm 
friend  of  the  cause  of  Labor,  is  saying  to  Capital  in  most 
biting  words  (James  5:1):  'Go  to  now,  ye  rich  men, 
Weep  and  howl,  for  your  miseries  that  shall  come  upon 
you.  Your  riches  are  corrupted,  and  your  garments  moth- 
eaten.  Your  gold  and  silver  is  cankered  and  the  rust  of 
them  shall  be  a  witness  against  you  and  shall  eat  your  flesh 
as  it  were  fire.  Ye  have  heaped  treasures  together  for  the 
last  days.  Behold,  the  hire  of  the  laborers  who  have 
reaped  down  your  fields,  which  is  of  you  kept  back  by 
fraud,  crieth ;  and  the  cries  of  them  which  have  reaped  are 
entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabbath.  Ye  have 
lived  in  pleasure  on  the  earth  and  been  wanton.  Ye  have 
nourished  vour  hearts  as  in  the  days  of  slaughter.  Ye 


130  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

have  condemned  and  killed  the  just  and  he  doth  not  re 
sist  you.'  And  again  He  says  (Heb.  I2:iv)  in  speaking 
to  the  oppressed:  'Ye  have  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood 
striving  against  sin.'  Thus  signifying  that  the  spirit  of 
resistance  must  yet  come  and  be  manifest  in  the  earth  ere 
the  oppressors  of  the  poor  shall  came  to  their  reward,  well 
deserved  and  richly  merited,  by  the  hand  of  the  Lord." 

"Ruth,"  said  Marie,  "you  argue  well,  but  you  fail  to 
make  clear  to  me  just  what  you  would  have  Capital  do. 
Would  you  have  me  lay  my  millions  down  at  the  feet  of 
the  poor?" 

"No,  indeed!"  replied  the  girl;  "we  do  not  want  your 
gold.  We  would  have  you  lay  down  the  lines  that  are 
drawn  between  Labor  and  Capital  and  cease  to  rob  us 
of  our  inheritance — for  we  are  free  born.  We  would 
have  you  recognize  the  fact  that  Labor  is  Capital,  and 
give  us  our  share  of  wealth  accruing  from  the  labor  of 
our  hands;  for  this  rapid  centralization  of  capital  in  the 
hands  of  a  few  is  a  menace  to  our  country  and  a  leaden 
weight  upon  the  very  name  of  Freedom.  Of  what  value 
would  the  gold  of  capitalists  be  were  it  not  coupled  with 
labor?  Our  country  is  not  so  rich  in  gold  as  it  is  in  labor. 
Then,  we  ask,  why  depreciate  that  labor  and  make  gold 
king,  since  gold  without  labor  would  be  as  a  chained 
slave  with  no  more  value  in  it  than  the  pebbles  upon  the 
sea  shore.  Labor  is  the  people's  God-given  inheritance! 
Labor  is  our  capital!  And  if  you  will  let  your  better 
judgment  prevail,  you  will  see  the  axiom  and  understand 
that  co-ordinately  Labor  and  Capital  are  indivisable. 
Therefore,  America's  boast  should  be  in  Labor  and  not 
in  gold;  and  the  highest  aim  of  American  workingmen 
should  be  in  their  individual  callings  to  outdo  the  world 
in  skill.  America  should  wear  the  crown  as  first  in  art. 
Our  country,  under  the  beneficent  hand  of  God,  has 


THE  GREAT  PROBLEM.  131 

grown  rich.  Her  citizens  point  with  pride  to  the  rapid 
increase  of  her  treasuries;  but,  Marie,  increase  of  wealth 
is  not  evidence  of  a  nation's  prosperity  unless  it  be  prop 
erly  distributed  among  her  people.  And  all  that  Labor 
demands  on  that  score  is  its  share  of  the  increase  of  Cap 
ital;  hence,  the  demand  for  a  better  wage." 

"According  to  your  estimations,  dear  Ruth,  gold  has  a 
very  infinitesimal  valuation  as  it  stands  alone,  but  when 
coupled  with  labor  assumes  most  gigantic  proportions. 
I  think  I  can  see  your  position,  but  to  put  into  practice 
this  indivisible  unity  of  Capital  and  Labor  will  require  a 
better  wisdom  than  I  know,  and  that  is  the  question  that 
you  have  left  unsolved." 

Ruth  smiled  pleasantly  and  said:  "Drop  the  lines, 
dear,  that  now  divide  Capital  from  Labor  and  very  soon 
we  shall  be  atonement.  Find  a  heart  in  Capital  and  La 
bor  will  furnish  the  hands  that  will  take  the  indivisible 
body  in  embrace,  and  a  holy  bond  will  be  established 
between  the  two,  while  Heaven's  hosts  will  smile  down 
upon  the  union.  And  in  that  day  we  shall  not  be  obliged 
to  look  upon  such  pictures  of  woe  as  we  now  do,  for 
homes  will  be  made  bright;  just  in  proportion  as  want 
and  sin  have  disappeared,  joy  and  gladness  will  come 
stalking  in,  irradiated  with  smiles  such  as  God  revealed 
when  He  promised  that  He  would  not  again  destroy  the 
world  by  flood.  In  that  time  Capital  will  be  so  mag 
nanimous  with  Labor  that  it  will  scorn  to  dole  out  a  mere 
pittance  as  a  daily  wage ;  but  will,  in  all  honor,  give  to  the 
workingman  his  share  of  the  increase  of  Capital  ac 
cruing  from  the  labor  of  his  hands." 

Dear  reader,  can  you  enter  into  an  appreciation  of  the 
joy  that  day  will  bring  forth?  Think  of  the  happy  homes 
where  the  countenance  of  wives  and  mothers  have  been 
made  to  beam  with  joy  and  gladness,  and  the  pinched, 


132 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


starved  faces  of  little  children  shall  be  rounded  into  the 
bloom  of  perfect  health.  May  God  hasten  the  day  when 
our  dream  shall  be  realized  and  the  nation,  over  which 
floats  the  stripes  and  stars,  shall  have  its  boast  in  the  free 
dom  that  makes  free! 


AN    OUTING    TRIP. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FOLLOWING  AFTER  FATE. 

Some  weeks  after  Ruth's  departure  from  the  Earnestine 
mansion  she  received  the  following  letter  from  Marie: 

"Palace  Earnestine,  March  17,  18 — . 
"My  Dear  Ruth: 

"It  is  done,  and  I  am  to  become  the  wife  of  Earnest 
Stocklaid.  Our  wedding-  day  is  set  for  the  27th  and  I  am 
resting  in  the  happy  anticipation  of  a  joyous  and  prosper 
ous  future.  Earnest  has  promised  me  that  he  will  never, 
never  put  the  cup  to  his  lips  again  and  I  feel  sure  that 
I  can  trust  him.  Aunt  Langsford  has  laughed  at  my 
fears,  for  she  says  that  all  men  drink  to  excess  more  or 
less,  and  that  my  prospect  of  a  happy  life  with  Earnest 
excels  that  of  almost  any  other  girl;  and  that  even  if  he 
should  turn  to  drink  again,  the  rich  are  never  so  much 
disgraced  as  the  poor,  and  I  can  shield  his  faults  if  I 
will.  Come  to  me,  my  dear  Ruth,  for  I  long  to  tell  you 
all  about  it  and  to  have  your  blessing  and  assurance  be 
fore  I  enter  into  the  state  of  matrimony. 

"Most  lovingly  yours,  MARIE." 

Ruth  read  and  re-read  the  letter  and  then  carefully  fold 
ed  it  before  she  spoke.  At  length,  brushing  a  tear  from 
her  eye,  she  murmured :  "Poor  Marie,  would  to  God  she 
had  heeded  my  warnings  in  times  past,  for  had  she  done 
this  now  her  joy  would  be  complete!  Oh,  what  assur 
ance  can  I  give  her  that  Earnest  Stocklaid  will  not  again 


136  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

fall  and  become  abandoned  to  drink?  I  am  afraid  in  this 
case  that  Marie's  blessings  will  be  a  multiplicity  of  sorrows, 
However,  I  will  go  to  her,  for  I  may  be  able  to  do  her 
some  good." 

Ruth's  spirit  was  much  oppressed  on  account  of  her 
friend;  but  she  finally  shook  off  the  burden,  saying:  "Ah, 
well !  it  may,  after  all,  work  for  her  a  crown  of  glory." 

The  morning  Miss  Mansfield  arrived  w*as  one  of  those 
perfect  days  that  is  seldom  seen  'in  San  Francisco.  She 
slowly  came  up  the  walk  at  the  Palace  Earnestine  and  re 
membered  she  had  gone  in  and  out  many  times  in  the 
days  gone  by.  But  there  were  not  many  pleasant  memories 
to  her  around  the  place,  and  she  had  no  regret  at  leaving 
save  the  one  that  she  could  not  have  been  instrumental 
in  bringing  the  household — one  and  all — to  that  blessed. 
Christ  for  whom  old  Jerry  so  reverently  testified  ere  she 
wrent  abroad,  and  who,  true  to  his  prophecy,  had  been  laid 
away  at  Lone  Mountain  long  before  her  return  from  Eu 
rope.  She  bore  a  tender  regard  for  Marie,  whom  she 
had  served  long  and  well.  She  was  now  returning  to  her 
for  a  final  season,  at  the  close  of  which  Marie  was  to 
enter  into  marriage  compact  with  a  man  whom  she  knew 
had  gone  to  the  bottom  as  the  result  of  drink.  She  could 
not  help  the  feeling  of  sadness  that  crept  over  her  and 
wishing  that  she  could  in  some  way  save  her  from  such  a 
fate.  Her  thoughts  were  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
girl  herself,  for  long  before  she  put  her  foot  upon  the 
steps,  Marie  stood  with  outstretched  arms  waiting  to  re 
ceive  and  bid  her  welcome. 

It  was  easy  to  detect  that  a  wonderful  change  had  tak 
en  place  in  the  heart  of  Marie  Earnestine  since  they  had 
last  met.  That  old  haughty,  aristocratic  spirit  had  gone 
and  been  surplanted  by  a  gentle  womanhood  sweet  to  be 
hold,  and  the  servants,  one  and  all,  were  beginning  to 


FOLLOWING  AFTER  FATE.  137 

note  the  change  and  wondering  why  it  was;  whether  it 
was  the  result  of  her  new  love  and  approaching  marriage, 
or  the  gentle  spirit  of  Christ  in  the  girl's  heart.  Ruth 
could  not  tell,  but  it  gave  her  genuine  satisfaction  to  know 
that  the  old  harsh  way  of  speaking  was  a  thing  of  the 
past  and  a  courteous  and  kindly  spirit  had  taken  its  place. 
Taking  Ruth  by  the  hand,  she  affectionately  kissed  her 
rosy  cheek  and  led  her  away  to  her  own  boudoir,  and  in 
the  trustfulness  of  an  affectionate  sister  began  to  unfold 
to  her  her  hopes  and  fears  concerning  the  future.  Com 
ing  close,  she  laid  her  head  upon  Ruth's  shoulder  and 
whispered:  ''What  shall  I  do,  dear,  if  after  we  are  mar 
ried  Earnest  should  fall  again  and  become  a  drunkard?" 

A  silence  fell  upon  them  as  she  uttered  these  words 
and  both  for  a  moment  were  wrapped  in  thought.  Ruth 
wound  her  arms  tenderly  about  Marie,  but  it  seemed  for 
a  moment  that  she  could  not  speak. 

Again  she  repeated:  "Tell  me,  Ruth,  what  could  I  do? 
Do  you  think  he  will  again  become  abandoned  to  drink? 
And  if  so,  would  I  be  afraid  of  him?  Other  men  who  are 
drunkards  often  become  insane;  would  he  also,  do  you 
think?  Is  this  my  fate,  or  will  it  work  out  for  my  own 
good  and  the  good  of  the  man  whom  I  shall  marry?" 

Ruth  gently  pressed  the  girl  to  her  bosom  and  mur 
mured:  "No  one  but  God  can  tell  you,  dear,  but  we  will 
pray  that  it  may  be  for  both  your  good  and  his.  Let  it 
pass  now,  but  remember,  Marie,  if,  in  the  years  to  come, 
your  life  should  be  brought  to  grief  and  you  need  a  friend 
come  to  me  and  I  will  help  you  if  I  can." 

Marie  gave  a  little  shudder  and  one  could  see,  as  a 
shadow  flitted  over  her  countenance,  that  Ruth's  words 
had  grated  harshly  upon  her  spirit.  Replying  she  said: 
"I  may  ofttimes  want  your  sympathy,  Ruth,  but  I  shall 
never  need  your  help." 


138  KUTH  AND  MARIE. 

She  then  assumed  a  smile,  but  her  voice  had  in  it  a 
tinge  of  sarcasm  as  she  continued:  "You  can  save  that 
for  the  poor,  in  whom  you  are  so  much  interested.  My 
good  father,  in  his  will,  made  ample  provision  for  all  my 
earthly  needs  before  he  took  his  departure  into  another 
world." 

Ruth  smiled  at  the  girl's  words,  for  it  was,  after  all,  only 
innocence,  but  a  look  of  foreboding  rested  upon  her  coun 
tenance,  as  she  said:  "You  know,  Marie,  that  time  often 
takes  wealth  upon  his  wings  and  flies  away.  Our  to-day 
can  never  tell  what  our  to-morrow  may  bring  forth.  You, 
too,  may  be  poor  some  day,  notwithstanding  the  money 
you  now  have." 

"If  I  were  dependent,"  said  Marie,  "upon  an  emolu 
ment  from  Labor,  your  words  might  have  in  them  some 
meaning;  but  with  this  vast  estate  it  is  not  at  all  likely 
that  I  shall  ever  come  to  want.  You  may  put  your  trust 
in  God,  who  is  so  very  real  to  you,  but  give  me  gold,  and 
I  will  trust  in  it  for  the  temporal  things  of  life!" 

It  is  a  sad  thought  to  Ruth,  as  she  paused  to  think 
about  it,  that  a  single  human  soul  whom  God  has  made 
can  put  his  trust  so  implicitly  in  money  as  Marie  Earn- 
estine  did.  She  knew  that  in  the  great  convolution  of 
things  to  come,  poor  Marie  had  yet  to  learn  that  gold  van 
ishes  like  the  days  of  life  and  is  often  as  illusive  as  our 
own  heart.  She  knew  that  chance  and  change  would  roll 
the  scales  from  her  eyes,  and  while  she  was  unconsciously 
selfish  now  she  would  then  let  her  spirit  flow  out  into  a 
broader  field  of  usefulness  than  she  had  ever  yet  dreamed 
she  could. 

During  the  years  of  service  in  which  Ruth  had  attended 
Marie  she  had  ever  striven  to  keep  their  two  lives,  so 
different  from  each  other,  in  perfect  equipoise.  She  felt 
this  was  the  only  good  way  of  keeping  in  touch  with  the 


FOLLOWING  AFTER  FATE.  139 

things  that  concerned  both  spheres  of  life.  In  doing  this 
she  had  enlarged  her  own  opportunity  and  greatly  en 
hanced  the  moral  character  of  Marie  Earnestine.  Ruth 
had  done  the  best  she  could ;  she  felt  that  her  whole  duty 
had  been  discharged. 

She  could  almost  see  with  the  visible  eye  the  work  of 
desolation  that  was  soon  to  begin.  She  reviewed  the  past 
ten  years,  then  murmured :  "One  could  not  expect  much 
more.  As  they  sow  so  they  reap,  but  God  will  never  let 
her  spend  her  life  without  rinding  the  way  to  the  cross." 

The  relations  of  these  two  were  now  about  to  be  sev 
ered.  They  had  been  bound  by  strong  cords  of  love  that 
had  grown  with  the  years.  As  they  sat  together  that  day 
they  were  in  a  silent  way  looking  back  over  the  past  and 
summing  up  what  life  had  been  to  each.  One  reckoned 
the  worth  by  gold;  the  other  by  knowledge.  One 
thought  of  the  experience  with  regret;  while  the  other 
had  joy  in  knowing  she  had  done  her  best.  Ruth  pressed 
the  hand  of  Marie  at  parting  and  thought  not  for  all  her 
gold  would  she  change  places  with  the  rich  and  nine!] 
sought-after  woman  of  society,  Marie  Earnestine. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AT  THE  WEDDING. 

The  Earnestine  mansion  was  a  blaze  of  light  and  beauty. 
The  grounds,  so  exquisitely  arranged,  reflected  from  the 
many  colored  lights  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  Happy 
guests  were  flitting  about  in  joyous  expectation  of  wit 
nessing  the  nuptial  vows  of  the  rich  Miss  Earnestine 
and  the  man  of  her  choice.  The  air  was  laden  with  the 
perfume  of  rare  flowers.  Low  strains  of  music  filled  the 
house  with  sweet  vibrations.  Deft  fingers  now  played 
the  wedding  march.  Marie  Earnestine,  with  her  full 
complement  of  attendants,  entered  the  room  leaning  upon 
the  arm  of  her  affianced  husband,  Earnest  Stocklaid. 

A  tremor  of  awe  swept  over  the  countenances  of  the 
company  as  the  bridal  party  appeared.  All  beheld  the 
effulgent  beauty  of  the  bride  and  noted  her  proud  look 
and  happy  smile.  Many  admiring  glances  were  cast  at 
the  noble  face  of  Earnest  Stocklaid.  But  who  was  the 
tall  and  beautiful  young  woman  who,  with  queenly  grace, 
was  acting  as  first  bridesmaid?  Apparently  she  was  a 
stranger  to  all  present.  As  the  party  took  their  position 
under  the  arch  wreathed  with  smilax  and  white  syringas 
the  bell  above  their  heads  pealed  out  in  silvery  tones  the 
hour  for  the  ceremony  to  begin.  Many  guests  now  de 
tected  the  smile,  and  pronounced  the  name  of  Ruth  Mans 
field,  the  waiting  maid  of  the  bride.  A  wave  of  haughty 
contempt  swept  over  the  countenances  of  the  assembly. 
Immediately  after  the  ceremony  a  hurried  buzz  of  voices 
could  have  been  heard  and  occasionally  the  blood  would 
tingle  in  Ruth's  cheek  as  she  heard  her  own  name  whis 
pered  across  the  room. 


142  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

It  was  true  Marie  Earnestine  had  made  a  great  depart 
ure  and  her  guests  did  not  know  whether  to  be  shocked 
or  pleased. 

Soon  congratulations  were  over  and  the  company 
seated  to  partake  of  the  bountiful  feast  which  is  character 
istic  of  California  life.  Here  another  surprise  awaited  the 
guests.  Wine  was  not  served!  Think  you  San  Francis 
co  society  was  not  shocked!  Harry  Rumsford,  as  he  sat 
opposite  his  fair  cousin,  betrayed  his  utmost  disgust. 

Poor  fellow!  Ten  years  had  not  added  to  his  physical 
attraction.  He  sits  to-night  with  bloated  cheeks  and 
looks  more  like  a  full-grown  porpoise  than  a  human 
being. 

No  wine,  but  healthful  and  nutritious  drinks  of  all  kinds 
were  served  to  the  guests,  and  everybody  seemed  happy 
in  the  new  departure  except  Harry  Rumsford,  who  had  so 
degraded  his  manhood  as  to  order  the  waitress  to  bring 
him  a  glass  of  champagne.  The  stamp  of  Marie's  foot 
was  heard  from  beneath  the  table  and  an  emphatic  "No!" 
was  distinctly  audible.  Minolta's,  the  colored  servant, 
face  shone  with  indignation  as  she  exchanged  glances 
with  Ruth,  who,  like  herself,  well  remembered  another 
time  when  that  same  foot  had  just  as  emphatically 
stamped  a  "Yes! '  to  the  wine  cup. 

"Surely,"  said  the  black  woman  to  herself,  as  she 
thought  how  the  chains  of  a  slave  once  clanked  at  her 
own  heels,  "the  evolution  of  time  will  right  all  wrongs, 
and  who  shall  say  that  the  white  slaves  to  the  wine  cup 
shall  not  be  liberated  as  well?" 

Arising  from  the  table,  the  guests  followed  their  host 
ess  into  the  drawing  room,  a  truly  happy  and  beautiful 
company. 

Ruth  took  her  seat  at  the  piano,  and  sweeping  her  hands 
over  the  keys,  accompanied  her  own  exquisite  voice,  which 


RUTH    AT    THE    PIANO. 


144  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

rose  and  fell  in  such  waves  of  melody  that  every  ear  was 
entranced  and  the  assembly  spellbound  in  the  presence 
of  the  storm. 

When  the  last  sound  had  died  away  she  was  caught 
to  Marie's  bosom,  while  a  shower  of  kisses  fell  upon 
her  lips  and  brow  as  she  exclaimed:  "Dear  Ruth,  I  did 
not  know  you  could  sing.  Why  have  you  never  let  me 
hear  your  voice  before?  Do  tell  me,  who  has  so  won- 
drously  taught  you?" 

The  girl  pressed  the  jeweled  fingers  of  the  bride  to  her 
lips  and  replied:  "In  Germany,  Marie;  while  you  were 
enjoying  your  afternoon  nap  I  was  engaged  with  Pro 
fessor  Von  Chuberg." 

This  was  a  moment  of  triumph  to  Ruth,  who  had  spent 
many  weary,  tedious  hours  trying  to  coax  M^rie  to  prac 
tice  her  music.  To  appease  Aunt  Langsford,  Marie  often 
gave  Ruth  one  dollar  an  hour  to  keep  drumming  the 
piano  while  she  was  lost  in  the  depths  of  some  love  story. 
This  hour  was  well  improved  by  the  maid,  who  was  work 
ing  with  the  zeal  of  ten  thousand  angels  to  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  books  and  music. 

Ruth's  achievements  were  often  mistaken  for  Marie's 
attainments  by  Aunt  Langsford,  who  so  often  said:  "It 
doesn't  matter  much  if  Marie  is  not  proficient  in  learning 
her  money  will  carry  her  through.  When  she  is  done 
it  will  be  all  the  same  as  though  I  had  worried  myself  to 
death  trying  to  persuade  her  to  apply  herself  to  books 
and  music." 

One  by  one  the  guests  began  to  depart,  and  as  the 
bridesmaids  gathered  around  Marie  to  assist  in  the  fare 
well  greeting,  Ruth  wras  a  central  figure  in  the  midst  of 
those  whom  she  had  brought  to  see  that  labor  was  nobler 
in  poverty  than  indolence  in  wealth. 

When  she  reflected  over  the  banished  wine  cup  from 


SOME    OF    THE    GUESTS. 


146  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

such  an  occasion  and  the  broken  cast,  and  meditated  that 
her  own  strong  spirit  had  effected  much,  a  sweet  glow  of 
pleasure  swept  over  her  soul  and  she  wished  that  every 
working  girl  in  all  Christendom  would,  even  as  she  had 
done,  maintain  a  spirit  of  independence  instead  of  yielding 
to  what  seemed  like  oppressions  of  the  aristocratic  world. 

Kissing  Marie's  cheek,  which  -had  in  this  exciting  hour 
stolen  some  of  her  own  rosaceous  bloom,  she  stepped 
into  the  carriage  and  was  driven  away  to  her  new-found 
home. 

Thus  closed  the  wedding  fete  of  Marie  Earnestine,  the 
rich  and  envied  young  heiress,  who  had  taken  upon  herself 
the  troth  of  wifehood  and  plighted  her  vows  to  a  man 
whom  she  knew  to  be  addicted  to  the  use  of  ardent  spir 
its.  Her  first  hour  of  married  life  had  been  a  flood  of 
glory;  will  the  last  hour  be  hallowed  with  the  same?  We 
shall  see  as  she  passes  on  from  the  altar  to  the  tomb. 


MARIE'S    BREAKFAST    ROOM. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IN  LEGAL  FETTERS. 

Leaving  Ruth  for  the  present  in  the  pursuit  of  her 
philanthropic  work  for  humanity,  we  will  tarry  for  awhile 
at  the  Palace  Earnestine  to  note  the  many  and  rapid 
changes  that  are  now  taking  place  there. 

A  few  mornings  after  the  wedding  we  find  the  bride 
seated  in  her  own  elegant  dining  room,  presiding  with 
great  dignity  over  the  breakfast,  pouring  the  rich,  golden 
coffee  for  her  husband,  who  is  looking  tenderly  into  her 
blue  eyes  and  saying:  "How  does  it  happen,  Marie,  that 
I  never  met  your  cousin,  Harry  Rumsford,  until  our 
wedding  night?  By  the  way,  he  seems  to  be  a  jolly  sort 
of  a  fellow,  and  I  like  him  well." 

The  wife's  cheeks  blanched  a  little  as  she  thought  of 
the  profligate  habits  of  her  cousin  Harry,  and  she  wished 
within  her  soul  that  he  had  not  turned  up  at  this  junc 
ture,  but  she  merely  replied:  "Oh,  Mr.  Rumsford,  I 
believe,  has  been  away  in  South  America  in  the  interests 
of  some  business  pursuit  and  has  just  now  returned.  I 
sincerely  hoped  he  would  marry  ere  this  and  settle  down 
from  his  wild  and  excessive  habits,  for  he  really  is  a 
source  of  much  mortification  to  me.  Had  I  known  that 
he  would  return  so  soon,  I  certainly  should  have  con 
sented  to  go  east  to  spend  our  honeymoon." 

Earnest  Stocklaid  patted  his  wife's  cheek  and  said: 
"You  speak  very  disparagingly  of  your  cousin,  Marie, 
whom  I  believe  to  be  a  well-meaning  fellow.  By  the  way, 
I  have  promised  to  lunch  with  him  to-day  at  the  Baldwin." 

Marie  bowed  her  head  for  a  moment  and  bit  her  lip 


150  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

in  remorseful  silence.  At  length  she  said:  "Earnest, 
Harry  Rumsford  uses  wine  and  ardent  spirits  to  excess. 
He  will  be  a  source  of  great  temptation  to  you.  I  would 
rather  that  you  break  your  engagement  and  incur  his 
displeasure  than  to  think  of  you  away  from  my  side  arid 
in  his  company  even  for  one  brief  hour.  Promise  me, 
husband,  that  you  will  not  go." 

At  that  moment  Harry  Rumsford  himself  came  stalking 
into  the  breakfast  room,  and  in  his  old  familiar  way  in 
terrupted  their  tete-a-tete,  exclaiming  as  he  entered: 
"Good-morning,  Sir  Earnest  and  Madam  Stocklaid! 
Glad  to  find  you  so  agreeably  engaged."  Helping  him 
self  to  a  chair,  he  continued :  "I  will  take  a  cup  of  coffee 
with  you,  if  you  please." 

And  then  as  though  a  thought  had  struck  him  that  must 
be  expressed  immediately,  he  said:  "I  say,  Marie,  you 
must  be  getting  addle-brained  or  lunatic  to  make  the 
startling  departure  that  you  did  the  other  night.  Fancy, 
if  you  can,  what  my  revered  uncle  would  say  to  a  marriage 
feast  at  Palace  Earnestine  without  wine.  Yes,  imagine 
if  you  can  what  he  would  say  to  a  plebeian  working  girl 
as  bridesmaid  to  his  daughter.  By  Jove!  I  believe  you 
are  losing  your  senses  and  will  have  to  have  a  guardian 
appointed  before  your  next  public  fete." 

Marie  reservedly  held  her  tongue  and  made  no  answer 
to  this  tirade  of  abuse  which,  although  clothed  in  a  jocose 
spirit,  was  meant  to  wound  her.  But  when  she  so  com 
posedly  held  her  peace,  he,  with  a  thought  to  provoke  a 
reply,  further  continued:  "I  say,  Coz,  I  will  go  out  on  the 
street  and  pick  up  some  skipjack  and  dress  him  up  as  a 
gentleman  and  set  him  up  for  my  best  man.  Eh,  how  will 
that  suit  you?" 

"That  will  meet  my  approval,"  replied  Mrs.  Stocklaid, 
"providing  he  has  as  much  brains  and  gentleness  of  heart 


IN  LEGAL  FETTERS.  151 

a?  ;^uth  Mansfield  has.'*  And  then  looking  him  full  in  the 
face,  she  continued:  "Ten  years  in  the  constant  com 
panionship  of  one  so  true  and  pure  as  my  excellent  maid 
has  made  me  a  woman  of  more  sterling  worth  than  I 
otherwise  should  have  been,  and  a  tenderer  pity  has  been 
born  in  my  heart  for  the  poor  than  I  ever  knew  I  could 
possess.  I  would  that  you,  Cousin  Harry,  could  have 
profited  by  her  wise  counsel  and  good  teaching,  even  as 
\  have  done." 

"Humph!"  ejaculated  the  man.  "You  need  not  preach 
up  that  jade  to  me;  had  enough  of  her  preaching  some 
years  ago." 

The  service  being  removed,  they  still  tarried  in  the 
breakfast  room,  Marie  wishing  every  moment  that  her 
obnoxious  visitor  would  take  his  departure  and  leave  her 
alone  with  her  husband,  for  whom  she  had  such  tender 
affection. 

At  length  he  arose  and  taking  young  Stocklaid  by  the. 
arm,  said:  "Come  on,  come  on,  Sir  Earnest,  we'll  drive 
out  to  the  races  and  see  who  wins  the  purse  to-day  and  will 
return  in  time  for  our  lunch  at  the  Baldwin." 

Marie  remonstrated,  but  her  cousin  jocosely  said: 
"Ay,  the  honeymoon!  You'll  soon  get  over  that  and 
wish  him  downtown  all  the  time."  Before  she  could 
gather  force  enough  to  make  her  request  felt  he  had  hur 
ried  Earnest  away,  while  the  wife  with  mingled  tenderness 
and  fear  stood  gazing  after  them  as  they  descended  the 
hill  and  wished  that  she  had  the  power  in  her  own  feeble 
hand  to  destroy  every  drop  of  alcoholic  drink  from  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

Until  this  moment,  and  during  all  the  months  of  her 
abstinence  for  Earnest's  sake,  she  had  never  once  thought 
of  her  own  vineyard  and  the  many  thousand  gallons  of 
wine  and  brandy  that  were  being  manufactured  there 


152  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

every  year.  But  now  as  the  thought  comes  to  her,  she 
stands  almost  appaled  and  wonders  what  she  can  do  to 
stop  the  evil  and  in  its  place  produce  some  harmless  thing 
that  would  be  a  blessing  to  the  world  instead  of  a  blighting 
curse.  For  a  moment  her  hands  were  clasped  together 
as  if  some  agonizing  thought  were  tearing  her  heart,  and 
then  like  one  having  gotten  the  victory  in  prayer,  she 
exclaimed  in  an  audible  voice:  "I  will  do  it!  For  his 
sake  I  would  sacrifice  my  life!  Why  not  my  money?" 

Not  waiting  to  ring  for  a  servant,  she  rushed  down  and 
out  of  the  house  and  ordered  her  carriage  to  be  brought 
around  immediately.  She  had  not  a  well-defined  purpose 
of  what  she  was  going  to  do,  but  her  first  thought  was 
to  exterminate  the  wine  grape  and  empty  the  winery  of 
its  store.  Yes,  she  would  do  it  if  she  were  beggared  by 
the  sacrifice. 

Driving  directly  to  the  office  of  her  agent,  she  startled 
that  profound  business  man  by  ordering  the  whole  wine 
business  upon  the  Ranch  Earnestine  exterminated — root 
and  branch.  That  shrewd  financier  looked  the  young 
woman  full  in  the  face  and  gave  a  low,  shrill  whistle,  ex 
pressive  of  his  surprise,  and  said:  "You  startle  me,  Mrs. 
Stocklaid.  I  do  not  well  comprehend  your  meaning.  Are 
you  losing  your  mind,  or  has  some  evil  genius  been  put 
ting  temperance  notions  in  your  head?" 

"Neither,  Jack  Halstead!  I  am  quite  sane  and  am  sure 
no  evil  spirit  has  been  near  me,  greater  than  the  spirit 
alcohol.  I  have  been  looking  out  upon  the  world  with 
earnest  thought  and  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
greatest  agency  for  the  promotion  of  human  misery  and 
wretchedness  in  the  world  is  the  wrine  business.  On  this 
account  I  have  made  up  my  mind  T  will  not,  for  the  sake 
of  my  owrn  personal  greed,  perpetuate  the  industry  longer, 
and  therefore  the  wine  business  on  my  ranch  must  be  dis- 


I    WILL    WAIT    UPON    YOU    TO-MORROW,    MADAM. 


IN  LEGAL  FETTERS.  155 

continued.  All  you  have  to  do,  sir,  is  to  order  the  vines 
taken  up — root  and  branch — and  burned.  Whatever 
there  is  in  store  in  the  winery  you  have  carried  out  and 
poured  into  the  sea." 

"Mrs.  Stocklaid,"  exclaimed  the  man,  "you  have  cer 
tainly  lost  your  mind!  Why,  madam,  there  is  fifty 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  wine  and  brandy  stored  in  the 
vault  at  this  moment,  and  would  you  lose  it  all?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  young  woman.  "What  can  I  do  with 
it  but  to  destroy  it?  If  I  give  it  away,  it  will  be  drank  to 
some  one's  woe  and  will  make  some  woman's  heart  ache. 
Empty  it  into  the  sea,  Mr.  Halstead,  empty  it  into  the  sea! 
And  we  will  quit  the  business  of  perpetuating  poverty 
and  heartaches  in  the  world.  We  will  instead  from  that 
beautiful  ranch  send  out  to  the  people  something  that  will 
promote  joy  instead  of  misery." 

Air.  Halstead  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hand  in  perplexi 
ty,  then  looked  up  into  the  face  of  the  woman  upon  whose 
countenance  he  had  never  before  seen  a  look  so  resolute, 
and  said:  "I  will  wait  upon  you  to-morrow,  madam.  1 
can  not  comply  with  your  wishes  without  further  advice 
from  some  one  older  than  yourself." 

Arising,  he  politely  opened  the  door  for  her  to  pass  out, 
but  he  soon  saw  that  the  resolute  woman  that  had  per 
petually  slept  in  Marie  Earnestine  had  awakened  in  Marie 
Stocklaid  and  the  man  found  he  was  no  longer  dealing 
with  a  child.  Motioning  him  to  be  seated  again,  she 
looked  him  steadfastly  in  the  face,  and  asked:  "What 
further  advice  would  you  have,  sir?  Is  not  my  own  wish 
concerning  my  own  property  the  law  that  must  govern 
your  actions  in  regard  to  my  business?  It  seems  to  me, 
sir,  that  the  one  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  obey  my  orders 
or  resign  your  position  in  favor  of  some  one  who  will 
fully  comply  with  my  wishes." 


156  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Jack  Halstead  stood  upon  his  feet  and  made  a  few  rapid 
strides  up  and  down  the  room.  At  length  he  paused 
before  the  imperious  woman  and  replied:  "You  see, 
madam,  as  Marie  Earnestine  your  will  was  my  law,  so 
far  as  this  matter  of  business  is  concerned,  and  I  certainly 
should  have  had  to  obey  your  command ;  but  as  Marie 
Stocklaid,  you  will  find  that  your  husband  must  be  con 
sulted  in  all  such  business  transactions.  Besides,  madam, 
this  is  a  most  insane  request." 

Marie  bit  her  lip  and  all  the  fierceness  of  her  irate 
spirit  burned  within  her.  "Was  it  indeed  true?  Must  she, 
consult  Earnest  about  the  matter?  And  if  she  did,  would 
he  consent  to  the  destruction  of  a  thing  of  so  much  money 
value?" 

She  felt  at  this  moment  strangely  perplexed,  and  the 
expression  of  her  face  revealed  her  ignorance  concerning 
business  matters. 

Just  how  to  proceed  she  could  not  tell,  but  conceding 
the  point  her  agent  had  made,  she  understood  that  she 
must  wait.  Yet  her  mind  was  made  up  and  she  was  de 
termined  that  the  wine  business  belonging  to  the  Earn 
estine  estate  must  go  forever.  Marie  had  arisen  to  her 
feet  and  the  two  stood  and  gazed  at  each  other.  Mr. 
Halstead,  who  had  seen  in  the  woman's  face  something  of 
the  motive  of  her  heart,  motioned  her  to  be  seated  again 
and  out  of  consideration  to  the  daughter  of  the  man  in 
whose  employ  he  had  been  for  so  many  years,  came,  and 
in  a  brotherly  way,  took  her  hand  in  his  own  strong  grasp 
and  asked:  "Marie,  what  has  been  at  work  upon  your  mind 
so  as  to  make  you  wish  to  do  such  an  irrational  thing 
as  you  have  here  proposed?  Surely  this  is  no  ordinary 
matter,  and  something  of  a  very  undue  nature  must  have 
been  brought  to  bear  upon  you  to  make  you  reason  so 
abstractly?" 


IN  LEGAL  FETTERS.  157 

For  a  moment  Mrs.  Stocklaid  was  tempted  to  give  her 
reason  and  tell  this  sympathizing,  brotherly  fellow  who 
had  so  long  been  true  to  her  father  and  her  own  best 
interests,  all  about  the  doubts  and  fears  that  were  tugging 
so  heavily  at  her  heart.  With  a  second  thought  though 
her  proud  spirit  asserted  itself  and  with  a  haughty  gesture 
she  withdrew  her  hand,  and  replied  as  she  did  so:  "Mr. 
Halstead,  did  I  not  tell  you  that  I  had  been  taking  notes 
from  the  world  and  find  that  this  industry  is  a  promoter 
of  crime  and  misery?  Besides,  I  have  been  studying  the 
toxicological  properties  of  ardent  spirits  and  am  persuaded 
that  the  use  of  wine  and  liquors  of  any  sort  are  hurtful  to 
mankind.  On  this  account  in  all  honor  to  my  woman 
hood,  I  must  urge  its  discontinuance." 

"Well,"  said  the  man,  "I  am  at  the  service  of  yourself 
and  Mr.  Stocklaid;  and  if  you  both  so  desire,  then  I  will 
most  surely  carry  out  your  orders,  but  until  such  a  time 
and  until  I  am  persuaded  that  this  is  not  your  own  fancied 
delusion,  I  am  powerless  to  obey  your  command." 

Marie  arose  and  stepped  to  the  door.  As  she  moved 
away,  she  felt  as  though  shackles  were  upon  her,  and  that 
the  fetters  which  bound  and  prevented  her  from  carrying 
out  her  own  will  with  her  own  property  was  almost  un 
bearable.  Until  to-day  it  had  never  been  intimated  to 
her  that  a  married  woman  had  lost  her  individuality  in  that 
of  her  husband,  and  for  the  time  being  she  felt  humiliated 
as  though  she  were  a  galley  slave  sentenced  to  menial 
servitude. 

Poor  Marie!  She  has  many  things  to  learn  in  wedded 
life  and  among  the  rest  she  will  find  that  the  laws  often 
tenderly  protect  the  man,  but  not  always  the  woman. 

Stepping  into  the  carnage,  she  was  driven  slowly  down 
the  street,  her  mind  in  greater  perplexity  than  it  had  ever 
been  before.  Catching  a  glimpse  of  Ruth  just  as  she  was 


158  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

vanishing  round  the  corner  at  the  Occidental,  she  bade 
her  coachman  pause,  and'  alighting,  ran  up  the  avenue, 
then  turned  the  corner  at  Pacific  street,  and  by  accident 
came  face  to  face  with  the  most  pitiful  object  she  had  ever 
beheld.  Just  coming  up  out  of  a  low,  dark  dive  was  a 
young  girl  scarcely  more  than  sixteen  years  of  age.  Her 
face  looked  as  though  it  had  seen  sixty  years  of  sin.  She 
was  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  a  black  man,  who,  was  cursing 
her  as  with  unsteady  step  she  leaned  upon  him  for  support. 
In  her  arms  she  carried  a  little  white  rabbit  which  un 
doubtedly  was  the  only  pure  thing  she  had  in  all  the  world 
to  love.  The  sight  was  almost  appalling  to  this  well-bred 
woman,  who  never  in  all  her  life  had  seen  a  sight  so 
shocking. 

Shuddering,  she  rushed  on  in  pursuit  of  Ruth,  who  had 
disappeared  out  of  sight.  To  her  surprise  she  had  run 
further  than  she  supposed  and  was  now  in  the  borders  of 
the  dark,  wicked  neighborhood  of  "Barbary  Coast."  A 
horrible  fear  crept  over  her,  for  even  though  she  had  lived 
from  infancy  in  San  Francisco,  she  had  never  before  in 
vaded  this  region  that  had  through  the  years  made  such 
records  of  barbarity.  Fright  made  her  limbs  tremble 
beneath  her.  She  could  not  run  and  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  that  she  could  walk  at  all.  On  either  side  of 
the  street,  "Saloon"  was  written  over  every  door  and  her 
ear  caught  the  sound  of  revelry  within.  She  recalled 
Ruth's  words  as  she  quoted  from  Isaiah :  "And  the  harp 
and  the  viol  and  the  taboret  and  pipe  and  wine  are  in  their 
feasts ;  but  they  regard  not  the  work  of  the  Lord,  neither 
consider  the  operation  of  his  hands."  For  the  first  time 
she  realized  the  meaning  of  that  prophecy  which  had  so 
often  been  quoted  in  her  hearing  and  wondering  if  it  had 
been  necessary  for  her  to  come  here  to  know  that  it  was 
fulfilled.  Here  and  there  she  saw  a  woman  with  bleared 


IN  LEGAL  FETTERS.  159 

eyes  and  unsteady  step  leering  at  and  calling  after  IKT 
in  drunken  stupidity.  Groups  of  men  were  huddled  to 
gether  in  coarse  debate  or  in  angry  dispute,  and  then 
bang  went  the  crack  of  a  pistol  and  she  saw  a  blue-coat 
running  with  club  upraised  to  drive  back  the  eager  mob 
that  \vere  rushing  to  see  who  had  fallen  victim  to  the 
shot.  It  seemed  an  age  to  her  when  she  at  last  came  out 
onto  Montgomery  avenue  and  motioned  to  her  coachman 
that  she  was  ready.  Seating  herself  she  pre.ssed  her  hand 
hard  against  her  heart  and  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  Then 
she  leaned  back  on  the  elegant  cushions  and  began  to 
think:  ''Was  all  this  wretchedness  which  she  had  just 
now  beheld  the  fruit  of  the  wine  industry  and  of  ardent 
spirits?"  Her  mind  seemed  dazed  and  for  a  time  she 
could  not  grasp  the  magnitude  of  the  evil.  At  length  she 
raised  herself  and  sat  upright  and  gazed  out  upon  the 
buildings.  Saloon  after  saloon,  at  regular  and  irregular 
intervals,  along  the  street;  and  even  the  corner  groceries 
had  their  bar.  The  thoughts  that  stormed  the  citadel  <>i 
reason,  as  the  woman's  conscience  began  to  awaken,  \\en- 
very  great.  The  sights  she  was  beholding  with  her  newly 
opened  eyes  were  appalling. 

Then  and  there  in  her  carriage,  with  none  but  God  to 
hear  the  vow,  she  resolved  that  just  so  long  as  she  lived 
would  she  lend  her  influence  on  the  side  of  temperance. 
She  would  encourage  the  zealous  reformers  of  her  day  by 
giving  largely  of  her  means  for  the  support  of  their  work. 
But  what  about  her  own  interest  in  the  liquor  business? 
The  thought  occurred  to  her  as  she  now  stood  before  the 
world,  she  was  as  guilty  in  the  sight  of  God  as  any  one  of 
those  dreadful  men  who  had  in  bold  relief  above  the  d«"«r 
of  their  business  places,  the  insignia,  "Sal<>.  .11."  She 
bowed  her  head  in  her  hand  and  thought  intently;  and  so 
utterly  lost  in  thought  was  she  that  her  carriage  had 


160  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

stood  at  her  own  door  for  many  minutes  before  she 
realized  that  she  was  home.  Her  good-natured  coach 
man  put  his  head  in  at  the  door  and  said :  "Shall  I  assist 
you  to  alight,  my  lady?''  She  started  with  surprise  and 
exclaimed:  "Why,  Dan,  I  did  not  know  that  we  were 
home." 

Going  to  her  room,  her  maid  assisted  her  to  dress  for 
dinner.  The  excitement  of  the  day  and  the  new-born  spirit 
in  the  woman  had  made  her  cheeks  flush  and  her  eyes 
sparkle  as  they  had  done  but  a  few  times  in  her  life.  At 
this  moment  Marie  Stocklaid  was  positively  beautiful. 

Entering  the  drawing  room,  she  found  that  her  hus 
band  had  preceded  her  and  wras  now  waiting  her  arrival. 
Advancing  to  his  side  she  looked  with  tenderness  upon 
him,  and  clasping  his  face  between  her  jeweled  hands, 
bent  down  and  placed  a  kiss  upon  his  lips.  Immediately 
she  withdrew.  The  peachy  bloom  faded  from  her  cheek 
and  the  tears  welled  up  in  her  eyes  and  came  rolling  down 
upon  his  hand.  Earnest  caught  her  to  his  bosom,  and 
exclaimed:  "My  precious  wife!  What  is  the  matter? 
Come,  lay  your  head  on  my  breast  and  tell  me  all  about 
it,  won't  you,  darling?"  But  Marie  hesitated.  At  length 
she  tenderly  put  her  hand  under  his  chin  and  bringing 
his  liquid  brown  eyes  into  range  with  her  own,  said: 
"Earnest,  you  promised  that  you  would  never  drink  in 
toxicants  again;  and  now,  husband,  your  breath  is  foul 
with  the  fumes  of  alcohol." 

Earnest  Stocklaid's  face  for  a  moment  assumed  a  dark 
expression  and  a  willful  spirit  flitted  over  it.  Then  with 
a  cynical  laugh  which  jarred  harshly  upon  her  nerves,  he 
replied:  "But  I  am  not  intoxicated,  Marie,  and  you 
should  not  allow  your  precious  tears  to  flow  for  a  sober 
man,  should  you?" 

For  a  moment  she  was  tempted  to  believe  him,  but  the 


IN  LEGAL  FETTERS.  161 

conversation  continued  and  Earnest's  desultory  manner 
of  speaking  betrayed  him.  Marie  began  to  know  that  her 
tears  had  not  been  shed  for  a  sober  man,  but  for  one  well 
under  the  influence  of  strong  drink.  From  his  remarks 
and  the  incongruous  way  in  which  he  conducted  himself 
at  the  dinner  table,  she  inferred  that  his  day  with  Harry 
Rumsford  had  been  one  of  reckless  indifference  to  his 
pledge  and  his  love  for  her. 

Ah,  dear  girls!  If  you  would  from  this  tale  but  gather 
the  thought  that  to  marry  a  man  to  redeem  him  from  rum 
is  but  to  take  upon  your  hands  a  task  that  but  few  women 
on  earth  have  ever  accomplished,  you  would  pause  ere  you 
take  such  a  step.  If  you  could  only  learn  that  the  reclama 
tion  of  a  drunkard  is  only  wrought  through  the  power 
of  prayer  to  God  through  Christ,  who  alone  can  take  the 
appetite  away  and  put  higher  and  holier  aspirations  into 
a  soul  than  those  born  of  earth,  then  you  would  be  more 
careful  upon  whom  you  bestow  your  love.  For  until 
you  are  well  convinced  that  the  object  of  your  affection 
has  his  feet  stayed  upon  the  everlasting  rock,  you  are  safer 
to  live  in  single  blessedness. 

A  man  whose  proclivities  tend  to  drink  or  sporting  in 
any  sort  of  vice  can  never  make  the  life  of  a  pure  and 
gentle  woman  a  happy  one.  In  this  case,  Marie  felt  the 
power  of  her  own  sin,  and  knew  that  she  could  but  reap 
as  she  had  sown. 

This  night  as  she  wandered  about  her  palatial  home, 
which  seemed  empty  and  barren  of  comfort,  she  hugged 
the  fear  of  her  uncertain  future  to  her  bosom,  and  wished 
that  she  might  awaken  and  find  that  all  was  a  troubled 
dream.  But  she  was  not  asleep!  Ah,  no!  Her  life  was  a 
wideawake,  living  reality,  and  she  must  embrace  stern 
fate  and  do  the  best  she  could. 


\ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PLAYING    A    DOUBLE    PART. 

Marie  Stocklaid  embraced  the  temperance  cause.  It 
seemed  to  her  business  agent,  as  it  did  to  her  many  society 
friends,  like  one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world.  When 
she  had  left  Mr.  Halstead's  office,  he  snatched  up  his  hat 
and  went  out  in  search  of  Harry  Rumsford,  whom  he 
knew  was  familiar  with  the  Earnestine  estate.  He  laid 
the  matter  before  him  in  exactly  the  same  language  as 
Marie  had  presented  it  to  him  and  wound  up  by  putting 
great  stress  upon  the  heavy  financial  loss  that  it  would  be 
to  the  estate,  he  said:  'The  lady  is  certainly  beside  her 
self,  Rumsford,  and  we  must  prevent  her,  if  possible, 
from  doing  such  a  foolhardy  thing." 

Harry  Rumsford  was  provoked  and  his  temper  asserted 
itself.  Like  Halstead  his  face  took  upon  it  an  expression 
of  contempt,  for  he  regarded  his  young  cousin's  command 
to  her  agent  as  nothing  short  of  insanity.  He  was  well 
under  the  influence  of  rum,  and  paced  up  and  down  his 
apartments,  literally  raging  in  a  fit  of  temper.  At  length 
he  paused  before  the  man  and  a  gleeful  look  diffused  his 
countenance  as  he  said:  "Why,  see  here,  Halstead!  What 
can  the  woman  do  without  the  consent  of  her  husband? 
Ha!  ha!"  laughed  he.  "Let  the  little  tigress  rage  if  she 
wants  to;  I  can  manage  Earnest  Stocklaid.  He  is  not  a 
fellow,  I  assure  you,  who  will  willingly  submit  to  this, 
noble  fellow  that  he  is.  I  will  see  him  to-day  and  have 
this  hash  settled  at  once." 

Jack  Halstead  looked  at  the  man  as  he  was  talking  and 
a  feeling  akin  to  disgust  crept  over  him  as  he  noted  how 


164  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

his  body  was  becoming  distorted  from  the  use  of  drink, 
and  how  the  mind,  once  so  bright  and  intellectual,  was 
dimmed  and  bleared  from  vice.  He  did  not  wonder  that 
Mrs.  Stocklaid  was  disgusted  and  at  variance  with  the 
drink  traffic.  He  was  now  playing  in  defense  of  the  wine 
industry,  but  it  was  not  in  any  wise  occasioned  from  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  user  of  the  beverage,  as  such  was  not 
the  case,  for  Jack  Halstead  was  a  total  abstainer.  But  a 
sacrifice  of  so  much  money  as  the  extermination  of  the 
wine  plant  at  Ranch  Earnestine  seemed  to  him  to  be  noth 
ing  short  of  insanity. 

He  had  not  given  the  temperance  reform  any  consider 
ation,  and  thought  this  departure  on  the  part  of  the  heiress 
of  the  estate  quite  out  of  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  the 
times. 

Harry  Rumsford  snatched  up  his  hat  and  sallied  forth 
in  the  direction  of  Nob  Hill  (or  rather,  shambled  forth, 
for  his  figure  so  interfered  with  his  natural  gait  that  he 
could  not  be  said  to  walk)  and  familiarly  took  himself  to 
the  Palace  Earnestine.  Finding  the  family  just  seated  at 
dinner,  he  took  a  seat  at  the  table  and  began  in  a  lofty 
way  to  talk  of  the  wine  industry  of  California  and  its 
future  outlook.  Utterly  ignoring  Marie,  he  talked  to 
young  Stocklaid  as  though  the  entire  estate  of  the  late 
Judge  Earnestine,  her  father,  belonged  solely  to  her  hus 
band  instead  of  to  herself,  and  closed  his  remarks  with 
the  following  sentence:  "My  word  for  it,  Stocklaid,  you 
have  the  finest  wines. in  your  vault  of  any  wine  grower 
in  the  state."  Earnest's  face  lit  up  with  pride,  for  he  evi 
dently  had  not,  until  this  moment,  felt  himself  anything 
but  an  incumbent  upon  the  estate;  but  now  to  be  ad 
dressed  as  its  sole  possessor,  he  felt  the  momentousness 
of  his  position  to  be  greatly  enhanced. 

Just  at  this  juncture,  Rumsford  turned  to  Marie  and 


PLAYING  A  DOUBLE  PART.  166 

said:  "What  has  induced  you  to  banish  the  cup  from  the 
table,  my  pretty  Coz?  Come,  now,  let  us  have  some  of 
that  fine  brand  of  which  my  uncle  used  to  boast  so  highly ; 
and  be  jolly  once  more."  Until  this  moment,  Marie  had 
forgotten  the  wine  closet  in  the  mansion  and  what  a 
dagerous  enemy  to  her  home  and  happiness  was  slumber 
ing  there  beneath  her  roof. 

The  firm  lines  could  be  seen  to  set  in  her  mobile 
features,  and  such  a  determined  look  in  her  face  as  one, 
a  few  years  ago,  could  scarcely  have  believed  would  ever 
have  rested  there.  As  she  replied  to  her  tormentor,  there 
was  a  new  ring  in  her  voice  which  told  of  a  deeper,  truer 
purpose  in  life  than  had  ever  been  found  in  her  before. 
"The  custom  of  wine  drinking,  Cousin  Harry,  is  becoming 
obsolete;  and  I,  for  one,  am  a  happy  convert  to  the  new 
custom  of  total  abstinence,  and  never  again  so  long  as  I 
am  mistress  of  my  own  home  shall  the  decanter  be  placed 
upon  my  board  or  my  guests  be  tempted  by  that  enemy 
of  the  home,  rum !  Furthermore,  I  declare  to  you  to-day 
that  I  shall  wash  my  hands  of  the  business  and  stop  the 
manufacture  of  the  stuff  at  the  Ranch  Earnestine." 

"Tut!  tut!  tut!"  exclaimed  the  vociferous  fellow  as 
he  gave  Stocklaid  a  sly  wink.  "What  do  you  women 
folks  know  about  the  good  things  of  the  world,  or  what 
is  to  your  best  interests?  Why,  my  lady,  your  father 
often  told  me  that  the  wine  product  yielded  him  the  best 
income  of  any  industry  of  the  estate.  And  now  would  you 
be  so  foolhardy  as  to  cut  off  that  revenue  and  impoverish 
your  fortune?"  "Yes,"  answered  Marie;  "if  my  fortune 
depends  upon  the  manufacture  of  ardent  spirits  which 
are  impoverishing  the  poor  and  disrupting  our  nation, 
then  I  say  farewell  to  wealth  and  I  will  be  one  of  the 
people  of  the  land." 

Rumsford's  face  assumed  a  most  contemptuous  frown 


166  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

as  he  saw  this  strong-minded  cousin  suddenly  lifted  from 
a  weakling  of  society  into  the  bold  spirit  of  a  reformer, 
and  he  turned  away  to  address  his  remarks  to  her  husband. 
The  great  clock  in  the  hall  chimed  out  the  hour  of  eight 
as  the  family  arose  from  the  table.  Harry  Rumsford 
and  her  husband  repaired  to  the  drawing  room,  while 
Marie,  excusing  herself  from  their  presence,  went  in  quest 
of  the  butler.  Since  her  father's  death,  the  butler  had  been 
given  other  employment  in  the  house.  The  two  secretly 
repaired  to  the  wine  closet  and  there  she  poured  out  and 
destroyed  the  store  that  had  been  set  for  more  than  twenty 
years.  The  man  stood  back  and  looked  on  as  his  mistress 
smashed  the  bottles  one  by  one  and  turned  the  faucets, 
making  an  entire  clearance  of  the  whole  store.  At  length 
he  ventured  to  say:  "Mrs.  Stocklaid,  your  father,  Judge 
Earnestine,  took  great  delight  in  this  store.  What  think 
you  he  would  say  if  he  were  here  to-night?"  Mrs.  Stock- 
laid  paused  for  a  moment  out  of  respect  to  her  father's 
name  and  then  replied:  "Ah,  poor  papa!  If  he  had  had 
the  enlightenment  in  his  day  that  has  come  to  me  through 
experience,  this  wine  would  never  have  been  saved.  I 
would  that  he  could  witness  my  deed  from  the  other  world, 
for  I  feel  sure  I  would  have  his  approval  and  benediction." 
The  man  shuddered  and  suspiciously  looked  over  his 
shoulder  as  if  expecting  to  see  the  wrathful  spirit  of  Judge 
Earnestine  coming  with  a  rebuke  instead  of  a  blessing, 
while  he  said:  "Oh,  my  lady,  you  may  be  sure  he  is  well 
aware  of  what  you  are  doing,  for  the  spirit  of  man  does  not 
go  away  from  the  earth;  and  if  he  is  still  as  he  was  while 
here,  you  may  be  sure  that  his  wrath  instead  of  his  bene 
diction  would  fall  upon  you  to-night.  Come!  Let  us  go 
out  of  this  dark  place  before  we  see  his  avenging  spirit." 
Marie  laughed  at  the  man's  superstitious  fears  and  turned 
away  from  her  work  of  destruction.  As  she  did  so,  she 


PLAYING  A  DOUBLE  PART.  167 

once  more  wished  that  her  hand  might  as  easily  destroy 
every  drop  of  wine  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Coming  noiselessly  into  the  drawing  room,  her  ear 
caught  the  words  of  Rumsford  as  he  was  revealing  to 
Earnest  the  startling  news  which  had  been  brought  to  him 
from  her  agent,  Jack  Halstead.  He  was  saying:  "I  know 
that  woman  better  than  you,  Stocklaid,  and  that  look 
upon  her  face  at  the  dinner  table  means  business.  So  far 
as  she  is  concerned,  the  wine  industry  will  have  to  cease. 
Now,  I'll  tell  you,  old  boy,  what  you  had  better  do.  Sell 
me  that  ranch  with  all  its  stock  in  store.  Rather  than 
have  that  young  vixen  carry  out  her  plan  of  destruction, 
you  can  afford  to  let  it  go  at  a  greatly  reduced  rate." 

This  special  ranch  had  come  to  Marie  from  her  mother, 
and  she  had  always  felt  that  whatever  she  did  with  it  her 
mother's  dying  bequest  must  be  cherished.  When  she 
heard  this  villainous  conspiracy  on  the  part  of  her  cousin, 
it  made  the  hot  Earnestine  blood  surge  through  her  veins. 
Rebellion  against  this  interference  flamed  up  in  her  heart, 
giving  her  more  strength  in  purpose  than  she  was  aware 
she  had  hitherto  possessed.  Marie  was  ignorant  con 
cerning  the  laws  of  her  state;  but  of  one  thing  she  felt 
certain,  that  her  husband  could  not  make  a  sale  of  her 
property  without  her  consent;  therefore,  after  listening 
to  their  plans  to  undermine  her  object,  she  quietly  stepped 
away  unobserved  to  the  music  room.  She  smiled  as  she 
pictured  his  surprise,  for  she  felt  certain  she  would  thwart 
his  plans.  She  very  resolutely  repeated:  "That  wine 
business  must  go !"  Taking  up  her  guitar,  her  low  sweet 
voice  was  heard  throughout  the  house  as  she  sang  to  its 
accompaniment. 

Ere  long,  Rumsford  took  his  departure  and  her  hus 
band  sought  her  side  looking,  as  he  came  to  her,  like  a 
guilty  child.  Smiling,  she  looked  pleasantly  up  as  he 


168  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

entered  the  room,  and  said:  "I  trust  that  you  and  my 
scapegrace  cousin  have  had  a  pleasant  evening  together, 
and  that  he  has  not  led  your  feet  into  any  trap  that  will 
cause  your  downfall." 

Earnest  did  not  reply,  but  brought  his  chair  close  by 
her  side,  and  tenderly  drew  her  head  down  upon  his 
bosom.  He  placed  a  kiss  upon  her  lips,  saying  as  he  did 
so:  "Marie,  dear,  your  cousin  has  proposed  to  buy  your 
ranch  with  all  the  wine  you  have  in  store;  and  I  think  it 
a  good  plan,  since  your  are  so  strongly  opposed  to  the 
industry.  Had  you  not  better  let  it  go  now  that  you  have 
the  opportunity?  Do,  dear,  let  me  consummate  the  bar 
gain  and  save  you  further  worry.  Marie  lifted  her  head 
from  his  bosom  and  looked  straight  into  his  eyes.  He 
dropped  his  head  as  his  wife  exclaimed:  "I  sell  wine?  No, 
indeed,  my  husband !  Did  you  not  hear  me  say  at  the  din 
ner  hour  that  the  whole  business  must  be  discontinued? 
Yes,  exterminated,  root  and  branch !  If  it  is  wrong  to  drink 
it,  and  you  know  it  is,  then  it  is  wrong  to  sell  it.  I  have 
awakened  from  my  awful  ignorance  pertaining  to  the  evil, 
and  I  declare  to  you  that  the  stain  of  blood  shall  never 
rest  upon  my  hands.  No!  All  the  wine  that  belongs  to 
me  shall  be  emptied  into  the  sea  instead  of  being  drunk 
by  men.  So  far  as  the  ranch  itself  is  concerned,  Mr. 
Stocklaid,  that  was  the  gift  of  my  dying  mother  and  I 
shall  never  part  with  it." 

Earnest's  face  that  had  been  growing  dark  and  crimson, 
assumed  a  stolid  expression.  He  was  not  inclined  to 
argue  the  point  with  his  wife,  so  said:  UI  think,  Marie, 
it  is  time  to  retire."  Marie  arose,  and  replacing  her  music, 
rang  for  her  maid  and  prepared  to  go  to  her  room.  In 
these  last  days  she  had  begun  to  realize  that  she  was 
naught  but  an  actor  in  the  drama  of  life.  Having  had  a 
great  admiration  for  the  stage,  she  said  to  herself:  "Now 


PLAYING  A  DOUBLE  PART.  169 

is  my  time  to  act  the  double  part,"  and  at  once  began  to 
play  the  role.  Twining  her  pretty  arms  about  the  neck 
of  her  husband,  she  laid  her  head  sweetly  on  his  shoulder 
and  the  two  ascended  the  stairs  that  led  to  her  room.  The 
young  wife  did  not  sleep. but  thought  earnestly.  She  saw 
the  trend  of  their  life  and  to  what  point  it  was  leading. 
Ruth's  words  were  already  coming  to  her,  and  as  the 
uncertain  future  stretched  out  before  her,  she  could  see 
but  little  sunshine  diffused  along  the  way.  She  thought, 
"There  is  one  thing  in  which  I  may  take  comfort,  and  that 
will  be  in  giving  my  encouragement  and  support  to  those 
who  are  working  in  the  temperance  reform.  If  I  can  not 
work  myself,  or  avert  disaster  to  my  own  life,  then  I  may 
in  some  measure  be  the  means  of  saving  others."  Again 
she  began  to  think  of  that  enormous  wine  vault  of  which 
she  was  the  sole  possessor.  What  could  she  do  with  it, 
or  how  could  she  have  her  wishes  carried  out  concerning 
it  and  its  extermination  when  she  was  met  from  all  sides 
with  such  rapid  opposition? 

Shortly  she  said  to  herself:  "I  will  take  the  matter  to 
Ruth,  and  out  of  her  wise  brain  must  come  the  plan  of 
work.  Through  her  generalship  we  can  take  the  enemy 
unawares  and  capture  him." 

Soon  her  eyes  were  closed  in  slumber,  and  in  the  morn 
ing  she  awoke  with  the  lark  that  sang  beneath  her  bed 
room  window.  Soon  as  breakfast  was  over  and  Earnest 
gone  a  messenger  was  dispatched  to  bring  Ruth,  who 
gladly  responded  by  coming  at  once.  Marie  bravely 
opened  her  heart  and  revealed  her  experiences  and  all  her 
resolves  and  purposes  in  the  temperance  work.  Ruth's 
eyes  were  full  of  compassionate  love  for  her  friend  and 
she  looked  her  admiration,  for  she  knew  that  the  step 
Marie  was  now  taking  was  a  departure  that  would  not  only 
startle  the  social  world,  but  prove  a  blow  upon  the  liquor 


i(0  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

traffic,  and  she  hailed  the  announcement  with  joy.  Marie 
looked  up  into  the  face  of  her  long-tried  and  cherished 
friend  and  said:  "But  tell  me,  Ruth,  what  a'bout  the  wine 
at  the  Ranch  Earnestine?  How  can  I  dispose  of  it  and 
do  mankind  no  harm?  Surely  your  wise  head  must  solve 
the  problem.  We  two  can  work  together,  for  I  have  firm 
ly  resolved  that  blood  stain  from  this  time  forth  shall  never 
rest  upon  my  hand  from  the  sale  of  rum." 

Ruth's  joy  was  complete,  and  for  some  moments  she 
sat  with  bowed  head,  lost  in  thought.  At  length  she 
asked:  "Marie,  will  you  leave  the  whole  plan  to  me?" 

"Yes,  dear,  I  shall  only  be  too  glad  to  do  so;  only  let 
me  have  a  hand  in  the  spilling  of  it;  won't  you?" 

Then  she  told  how  she  had  invaded  the  wine  closet  at 
the  palace  and  of  the  joy  she  felt  in  the  destruction  of  its 
contents.  She  gave  a  vivid  portrayal  of  the  butler's  'su 
perstitions,  at  which  they  both  laughed  heartily,  and  she 
finished  her  remarks  by  saying:  "My  delight  when  I  saw 
the  stuff  running  to  waste  was  only  a  little  foretaste  of 
what  I  expect  to  enjoy  in  helping  to  stop  the  infernal 
traffic." 

Ruth  patted  her  head  and  quoted  David,  where  he  said: 
"Blessed  be  the  Lord,  my  strength,  who  teacheth  my 
hands  to  war  and  my  fingers  to  fight." 

"You  would  make  a  good  soldier  in  the  army  of  the 
Lord,  Marie,  and  I  am  getting  in  a  hurry  to  see  you  one." 

"Oh,"  replied  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  "that  is  done  already, 
dear  Ruth,  and  I  am  happily  enrolled  with  God's  people. 
You  see,  I  took  your  advice  and  reverently  listened  to  the 
teachings  of  those  good  Sisters  of  Charity  who  so  kindly 
sought  me  while  sorrowing  over  papa's  death,  and  long 
ago  I  knelt  at  the  feet  of  our  Father  Confessor  and  told 
him  all  my  life  and  received  absolution  from  my  sins." 

Real  surprise  was  depicted  upon  Ruth's  countenance, 


PLAYING  A  DOUBLE  PART.  171 

and  after  recovering  from  her  astonishment,  she  said: 
"My  dear  Marie,  is  this  indeed  true?  Why  have  you 
never  told  me  before?  I  should  have  been  so  glad  to 
know." 

A  little  crimson  wave  swept  over  Marie's  cheek  and 
hesitatingly  she  replied:  "Because,  dear  Ruth,  you  arc 
such  a  practical  Christian  and  seem  to  have  a  something 
in  your  experience  that  I  have  never  yet  attained  in  mine. 
I  have  been  waiting  and  trusting  I  would  come  to  know 
your  joy  before  I  revealed  to  you  my  relation  with  the 
church." 

Ruth  Mansfield  took  the  girl's  face  between  her  hands 
and  looked  into  the  depths  of  her  liquid  blue  eyes,  and 
seeing  nothing  written  there  but  open  truth  and  frank 
ness,  she  kissed  the  ruby  lips  and  said:  "Keep  seeking, 
dear  one,  and  God  will  yet  give  you  an  experience  as  rich 
as  any  one  of  earth  has  ever  enjoyed.  You  know,  my 
precious  sister,  that  I  began  in  this  Christian  course  so 
many  years  before  you,  you  need  not  wonder  that  I  am 
further  on  the  way."  And  then,  pausing  for  a  moment, 
she  continued:  "But  I  am  told  by  many  who  have  ex 
perienced  perfect  love  that  God  is  just  as  able  to  give  in 
a  moment  of  time — yea,  in  a  twinkling  of  an  eye — all  that 
I  have  been  for  so  many  years  in  attaining.  I  will  pray 
that  you  may  receive  a  better  and  a  higher  blessing  than 
you  have  yet  known  or  enjoyed." 

Ruth  Mansfield  was  beginning  to  know,  through  the 
experiences  of  her  life,  the  truthfulness  of  that  old-time 
poet's  expression  where  he  says: 

"God  walks  in  a  mysterious  way, 
His  wonders  to  perform." 

As  she  bade  the  mistress  of  the  Palace  Earnestine  good 
bye  and  returned  to  her  own  little  home,  she  meditated 


172 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


upon  the  silent  workings  of  the  Spirit  and  wondered 
why  things  were  so.  She  was  indeed  surprised  at  Marie's 
announcement  of  faith  and  holding  fellowship  with  the 
church,  and  somewhat  of  pleasure  thrilled  her  own  heart 
to  know  that  she  was  indeed  enrolled  with  God's  people. 
But  yet  she  had  an  inexpressible  longing  in  her  soul  for 
that  dear  one  to  come  up  higher  and  get  into  the  holy  of 
holies,  where  the  Blessed  Spirit  could  have  all  its  own 
way  in  her  heart.  And  so  she  prayed  again,  as  ever, 
that  God  in  His  infinite  fullness  would  come  into  the  heart 
of  Marie  Stocklaid  and  make  her  a  great  light  in  her  own 
church  to  lead  many  to  a  higher  and  nobler  life  and  work. 


A    PRETTY    GROUP. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SPILLING  THE  WINE  AT  RANCH  EARNESTINE. 

Some  days  after  the  conversation  recorded  in  the  pre 
ceding  chapter,  two  women,  Ruth  Mansfield  and  Marie 
Stocklaid,  could  have  been  seen  driving  about  the  beau 
tiful  grounds  at  Ranch  Earnestine.  Their  appearance  at 
this  time  and  their  peculiar  movements  carried  with  them 
somewhat  of  mystery,  exciting  some  curiosity  on  the  part 
of  the  villagers.  It  was  in  the  loveliest  season  of  the  year 
and  hundreds  of  acres  stretched  out  before  them,  all  un 
der  the  cultivation  of  the  wine  grape.  Back  a  little  lay 
the  undulating  hills,  and  farther  on  could  be  seen  the  rest 
less  blue  sea  as  it  surged  and  foamed  and  beat  upon  the 
rocks  of  the  shore.  Here  and  there  were  white  cottages 
that  looked  inviting  enough  to  a  weary  pedestrian  and  told 
something  of  peaceful  repose  within.  But  as  Marie  and 
Ruth  paused  at  each  door  and  held  a  whispered  consulta 
tion  with  the  wives  of  the  workingmen,  one  could  see  by 
the  tears  that  would  unbidden  run  down  their  cheeks  dur 
ing  the  course  of  conversation  that  peace  and  joy  did  not 
flow  from  all  their  cups.  A  close  observer  could  have 
detected  that  there  was  something  in  the  air  that  had 
not  heretofore  been  wafted  on  the  breezes  to  fire  the  zeal 
of  women.  By  and  by  they  drew  up  before  a  cottage 
that  had  a  cleaner  and  happier  aspect  than  any  they  had 
yet  visited.  Here  beautiful  flowers  were  blooming,  and 
although  the  building  was  the  exact  counterpart  of  others, 
yet  a  different  spirit  seemed  to  pervade  the  atmosphere, 
which  told  of  culture  and  a  better  civilization.  Quietly 
sitting  in  the  carriage,  waiting  for  the  inmates  to  appear, 


176  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Ruth  is  heard  to  say:  "You  see,  dear,  what  a  different  air 
there  is  about  a  temperance  home." 

"Yes,"  said  Marie,  "and  ere  long  we  will  bring  all  the 
others  to  look  like  this  one." 

At  length  a  stalwart  German  with  his  good  wife 
Gretchen  is  seen  to  come  out  of  the  house  with  a  look  of 
expectancy.  On  reaching  his  hand  up  to  Marie,  he  is 
heard  to  say:  "Veil  den?" 

"It  is  done,"  said  Marie,  "and  a  host  of  good  women 
will  be  here  with  us  at  seven  o'clock  this  evening.  Get 
everything  in  readiness  and  I  think  our  method  will 
work.  We  will  put  an  end  to  this  unholy  business." 

Looking  into  Ruth's  face,  his  old-time  work-fellow,  he 
exclaimed:  "Praise  de  Lord,  Mees  Mansfield!  All  ve 
need  is  to  steer  up  des  vimins  mit  zeal  an  de  ting  must 
go!" 

A  few  words  more  spoken  to  the  good  man  and  his 
spouse  and  the  two  ladies  drove  away  and  put  up  at  the 
house  of  the  overseer  of  the  ranch.  That  evening  at  ex 
actly  seven  o'clock  twenty  ladies  were  assembled  in  the 
sitting  room  at  the  German  home.  Gretchen,  their  host 
ess,  with  her  hair  combed  smoothly  down  behind  her 
ears,  and  twisted  into  a  close  coil  at  the  back  of  her  head 
and  a  snowy  white  apron  tied  before,  was  just  bubbling 
over  with  good  fellowship  and  doing  her  best  to  make 
memorable  the  occasion  of  their  coming  together.  When 
they  were  seated  Ruth  struck  the  chord  and  they  sang: 
"How  Firm  a  Foundation,  Ye  Saints  of  the  Lord." 

Gretchen  knelt  and  in  broken  accents  prayed  that  God 
would  bless  their  coming  together  and  make  every 
woman,  even  as  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  strong  in  purpose  to  do 
right  for  His  name's  sake.  When  the  woman  arose  from 
her  knees  Marie  was  seen  to  brush  a  tear  from  her  eye. 

Ruth,  in  her  easy  way,  said  to  the  company  assembled: 


SPILLING  THE  WINE  AT   RANCH  EARNESTINE.     177 

"Dear  sisters,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  your  benefactress  and  em 
ployer  of  your  husbands,  has  met  with  a  strong  convic 
tion.  That  she  may  make  her  thoughts  known  to  you 
we  have  called  this  meeting.  She  will  now  speak  and 
make  her  purpose  known  in  her  own  way." 

Marie  arose,  and  with  gentle  dignity  began  by  saying: 
"My  dear  sisters,"  and  then  paused  for  the  manner  of  ad 
dress  sounded  quaint,  "I  have  found  in  our  private  consul 
tations  to-day  that  the  heart  of  every  woman  before  me 
has  been  pained  by  the  traffic  in  rum.  And  now, 
dear  women,  I  want  to  confess  to  you  that  I  am  sorry 
for  my  part  of  the  business,  and  have  fully  decided  to 
exterminate  it,  root  and  plant,  from  the  Ranch  Earn- 
estine.  It  has  been  the  spirit  of  a  strong  conviction  that 
has  brought  me  here  to  take  counsel  with  you  in  regard  to 
this  unholy  business  and  to  entreat  your  help  in  my 
scheme  to  exterminate  it.  I  have  been  looking  out  upon 
the  world  and  noting  the  ravages  which  this  rum  traffic  is 
making  in  the  hearts  of  wives  and  mothers.  I  have  seen 
how  it  is  disrupting  the  home  and  the  nation.  The  in 
nate  womanhood  within  me  and  the  love  I  bear  to  my 
husband  has  made  me  willing  to  sacrifice  its  money  value 
and  put  it  away  forever.  How  many  of  you  present  with 
your  husbands  and  sons  will  lend  a  hand  and  help  us 
empty  the  wine  and  brandy  now  in  the  vault  and  let  it 
flow  into  the  sea?" 

Each  woman  present  signified  her  willingness  to  do 
what  she  could  and  Ruth  exclaimed:  "Blessed  be  the 
Lord  who  giveth  us  the  victory !"  Gretchen  shouted  and 
Marie  wept.  Heroism  settled  upon  the  company  and 
made  them  glad  to  wage  a  war  with  casks  and  kegs  and 
help  banish  from  the  Ranch  Earnestine  that  enemy  to 
their  homes,  the  winery.  "Well  then,"  said  Marie,  pre- 


178  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

senting  the  keys  to  the  vault,  "everything  is  in  readiness 
and  we  will  proceed  at  once  to  the  scene  of  action." 

Gretchen's  husband  was  sent  out  in  quest  of  the  good 
men  whom  the  ladies  knew  would  stand  by  them,  while 
she  herself  invited  the  company  to  step  into  the  carry-all 
that  stood  in  waiting  at  the  door.  They  were  now  en  route 
for  the  winery  down  by  the  sea. 

The  evening  was  dark.  Twenty  women  silently  held 
their  tongues  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  or  until  they 
were  well  out  of  hearing  of  the  villagers.  Shortly  after 
their  departure  from  Gretchen's  home  one  might  have 
heard  the  unaccustomed  blows  upon  the  heads  of  wine  and 
brandy  casks  as,  one  after  another,  they  were  dispatched 
and  sent  on  their  way  down  into  the  blue  waters  of  the 
Pacific.  Ere  long  the  little  company  of  women  were  re 
inforced  by  a  band  of  strong  and  sturdy  men,  led  on  by 
their  German  friend,  who  worked  like  heroes  in  helping 
the  women  slaughter  the  barrels  and  casks.  No  warriors 
ever  fought  more  bravely  than  this  company  of  men  and 
women.  With  every  gallon  of  the  liquid  curse  that  was 
spilled  silent  prayers  of  thankfulness  to  God  went  up  from 
the  hearts  of  those  men  and  women.  At  length  the  battle 
was  won;  such  a  shout  of  victory  as  went  up  from  that 
company  of  people  is  worthy  to  be  repeated. 

That  night  the  victory  was  telegraphed  over  the  na 
tion.  The  "League  of  Freedom,"  the  most  popular  club, 
was  very  indignant  when  they  learned  what  had  taken 
place  at  Ranch  Earnestine. 

Ruth  said:  "Let  the  heathen  rage  and  the  people  imag 
ine  vain  things,  but  God,  who  is  the  author  of  the  temper 
ance  work,  is  able  to  stay  their  wrath,  and  the  end  is  not 
yet." 

Ruth  ordered  every  vine  on  the  place  taken  up,  root 
and  branch.  The  land,  she  said,  was  to  be  used  for 


SPILLING  THE  WINE  AT   RANCH   EARNESTINE.     179 

various  kinds  of  fruit,  such  as  the  raisin  grape,  apricots, 
etc.  When  this  was  done  the  two  women,  triumphant 
in  good  works,  found  their  way  back  to  the  city,  having 
been  absent  but  three  days.  The  commonwealth  was  rife 
with  gossip,  and  there  were  many  grave  conjectures  about 
the  sanity  of  the  rich  young  woman  who  had  made  such 
a  sacrifice  of  property  for  conscience's  sake.  There  was 
great  wonderment  as  to  the  cause  of  her  strange  way  of 
ridding  herself  of  the  curse.  The  people  though  had  not 
long  to  wait,  for  as  the  months  flew  by  it  became  an  estab 
lished  fact  that  Earnest  Stocklaid  was  fond  of  the  cup 
and  given  to  many  profligate  habits.  This  publicity  was 
a  source  of  grief  to  Marie,  who  10ved  him  well  and  ten 
derly.  She  had  fondly  hoped  that  he  would  not  drink 
to  excess,  and  that  she  could  cover  his  sin  with  her 
wealth,  but  alas  for  hopes  that  have  been  set  upon  a  vic 
tim  to  rum!  She  now  had  but  little  of  Earnest's  com 
pany.  She  sat  from  day  to  day  and  wept  as  she  felt  the 
little  heart  beat  beneath  her  own.  She  groaned  beneath 
the  heavy  load,  which  was  indeed  hard  for  her  to  bear. 
If  she  could  have  laid  the  blame  at  any  other  door  than 
her  own  she  would  have  found  some  sense  of  comfort  in 
it,  but  upon  reflection  she  was  only  brought  face  to  face 
with  her  own  sin  and  the  sore  seemed  to  grow  deeper 
every  hour.  The  sight  of  Earnest  as  he  came  home  to 
her  from  day  to  day,  staggering  under  the  influence  of 
drink,  the  loathing  she  felt  in  her  soul  for  his  rum-soaked 
person,  his  polluted  breath  and  bleared  eyes,  were  to  this 
young  and  sensitive  creature  a  thing  horrible  in  the  ex 
treme.  Marie  had  for  some  months  ceased  to  mingle  in 
society  and  had  cut  down  the  list  of  friends  to  a  few 
trusted  and  tried  who  had  known  her  from  childhood. 

Up  to  this  time  she  had  not  mentioned  her  grief  to  a 
soul  save  Ruth,  whom  she  saw  but  seldom.     One  day 


180  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Marie  looked  unusually  handsome.  Arrayed  in  a  pink 
tea  gown,  elaborately  trimmed  with  lace,  she  sat  leaning 
over  a  chest  of  drawers  handling  the  dainty  things  which 
she  expected  ere  long  would  be  brought  into  use.  She 
said  to  Aunt  Langsford:  "Oh,  if  I  could  know  that  my 
child  would  be  all  right,  perfectly  formed  in  mind  and 
body,  I  would  take  some  comfort  in  these  pretty  things, 
but  with  such  a  heritage  I  can  not  expect  to  give  to  the 
world  a  child  superior  to  the  common  children  of  the 
street." 

Aunt  Langsford  was  shocked  at  this  announcement  and 
laughed  scornfully  at  the  foreboding  of  her  niece.  She 
said:  "My  dear  Marie,  how  you  do  depreciate  your  own 
blood!  Imagine,  if  you  can,  how,  with  a  drop  of  Earn- 
estine  blood  in  its  veins,  the  child  can  be  anything  but 
noble.  Why,  my  dear,  I  expect  that  some  day  your  pos 
terity  will  accept  the  highest  seat  in  the  nations  and  be 
known  and  loved  by  all  people." 

"You  are  very  sanguine,  Aunt  Emile,  but  to  what  emi 
nence  can  a  child  whose  father  is  a  drunkard  ever  hope 
to  attain?" 

Arising  to  her  feet,  she  paced  up  and  down  the  room, 
and  as  the  rich  folds  of  her  elaborate  garment  trailed  out 
behind  her,  there  was  something  of  tragedy  written  upon 
her  being.  One  could  see  that  fear  and  dread  were  her 
constant  thought.  Just  then  the  door  to  her  apartments 
was  thrown  open  with  a  bang  and  Earnest  Stocklaid 
staggered  into  her  presence  with  a  terrible  oath  ringing 
from  his  lips  and  the  blood  streaming  from  a  wicked 
gash  cut  just  above  the  ear.  With  horrible  fright  Marie 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  fell  in  a  dead  swoon  upon 
the  floor. 

Even  Aunt  Langsford  was  thrown  out  of  equipoise, 
feeling  uncertain  just  what  to  do.  To  call  the  servants  to 


SPILLING  THE  WINE  AT  RANCH  EARNESTINE.    181 

witness  this  awful  scene  would  but  reveal  the  inner  state 
of  affairs  to  the  world  and  give  idle  tongues  an  opportuni 
ty  to  wag  at  Marie's  expense.  She  stood  a  moment  in 
a  quandary,  ringing  her  hands  in  mortal  fear, 
when  Ruth  Mansfield,  unannounced,  walked  into  their 
presence.  Taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  she  ex 
claimed:  "Good  gracious,  Stocklaid,  what  do  you 
mean?" 

Grasping  the  arm  of  the  intoxicated  man  in  her  strong 
right  hand,  she  hurried  him  into  a  closet  at  the  end  of  the 
room  and  turning  a  key  upon  him,  said :  "Don't  you  dare 
to  speak  until  I  return  to  you."  She  reached  some  water 
and,  bending  over  the  form  of  Marie,  bathed  her  face  and 
temples.  Ere  long  the  blue  eyes  opened  once  more.  She 
was  then  assisted  to  her  chair,  when  she  glanced 
nervously  around  the  room,  and  seeing  nothing 
of  Earnest,  asked:  "Ruth,  was  it  a  dream?"  Then  at 
the  memory  of  the  scene  she  covered  her  face  and  a  visible 
tremor  shook  her  frame,  while  a  deep  sob  burst  from  her 
lips  and  she  wept  aloud.  "No,  Marie,  it  was  not  a  dream, 
but  a  stern  reality  which  you  must  face  as  bravely  as  you 
can." 

Pointing  to  the  closet  she  said:  "Earnest  is  there  un 
der  lock  and  key.  Will  you  not  go  into  another  room  for 
a  little  time  and  leave  the  poor  wretched  man  to  me?" 

Marie  arose  and  feebly  moved  toward  the  door,  but 
something  was  wrong  with  her  knee  and  she  could  not 
walk  alone.  Leaning  upon  Aunt  Langsford's  arm,  she 
was  assisted  to  her  bedroom  and  a  servant  speedily  dis 
patched  for  the  family  physician.  Ruth  turned  the  key  to 
the  closet  and  looked  in.  There,  stretched  full  length 
upon  the  floor,  lay  the  unhappy  man  in  a  drunken  sleep, 
while  the  blood  oozed  steadily  from  the  wound  in  his 
face.  Allowing  him  to  lie  in  the  same  position  until  the 


182  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

arrival  of  the  doctor,  she  prepared  the  necessary  things 
for  dressing  the  wound,  and  then  sat  down  to  wait.  Soon 
she  heard  a  step  upon  the  stair.  She  went  out,  and  tak 
ing  the  professional  man  by  the  hand,  said:  "Doctor,  I 
am  not  going  to  show  you  a  'skeleton  in  the  closet,'  but 
a  living  reality.  If  you  attend  to  this  case  first  you  can 
give  a  better  diagnosis  of  poor  Mrs.  Stocklaid's  affliction." 
She  opened  the  door  and  looked  up  into  the  doctor's  face 
just  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  hapless  man  in  the  closet. 
His  countenance  assumed  an  expression  of  horror  as  he 
looked  upon  the  drunken  creature,  whose  face  and  linen- 
were  smeared  with  blood,  his  features  swollen  and  livid 
with  the  heat  of  rum.  Wiping  the  beads  of  perspiration 
from  his  brow,  the  doctor  paused  a  moment  and  reflected. 
At  last  he  spoke. 

"Miss  Mansfield,  how  long  has  this  thing  been  going 
on?" 

"Ever  since  their  marriage  day,  I  believe,  doctor;  but 
of  late  the  case  is  getting  to  be  a  desperate  one.  What 
can  I  do  to  help  you,  sir?" 

"Bring  me*a  bowl  of  water  and  a  sponge." 

Ruth  hastened  away,  and  upon  returning  found  the 
patient  seated  in  an  arm  chair,  while  the  doctor  was  re 
moving  his  outer  garments.  Dressing  the  wound,  he  gave 
the  unhappy  man  a  potion  of  medicine  to  cool  his  blood 
and  commanded  his  valet  to  keep  him  in  the  house  until 
his  return.  The  fatherly  old  man  had  waited  at  the  bed 
side  of  Marie's  mother  when  her  baby  eyes  first  opened 
on  the  world.  He  went  to  Marie's  room  and  bent  above 
her.  Sincere  pity  was  written  upon  his  kind  old  face 
when  he  said:  "Be  assured,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  that  you 
have  my  sympathy  in  your  sore  trouble,  and  anything  I 
can  do  for  you  I  will.  Remember  that  I  am  your  friend, 
as  I  was  your  mother's  friend  before  vou  were  born." 


SPILLING  THE   WINE  AT   RANCH   EARNESTINE.     183 

Marie's  tears  flowed  afresh  at  the  expression  of  pity. 
She  allowed  her  face  to  lie  in  his  fatherly  palm  for  a  mo 
ment  and  thought  how  good  it  would  seem  to  roll  the 
burden  off  and  let  the  generous  old  man  carry  it  all  for  her. 
Poor  child!  If  she  had  just  gone  one  step  higher  and 
thought  to  lay  her  burden  down  as  Jesus'  feet  what  a  sense 
of  consolation  she  might  have  found  in  this  hour  of  pain! 
She  was  started  on  a  long,  weary  journey  to  the  cross,  but 
she  will  get  there  by  and  by.  After  awhile  she  dried  her 
tears  and  said:  "Doctor,  if  you  can  only  give  me  the 
assurance  that  my  precious  baby  will  be  all  right  it  would 
relieve  me  of  the  heaviest  load  1  have  to  bear."  Pausing 
a  moment,  she  continued:  "1  do  not  deserve  the  pity 
or  sympathy  of  friends,  for  it  has  been  my  own  wicked 
ness  and  disobedience  that  has  brought  me  into  this  day 
of  regret.  (  )ft  and  repeatedly  did  Ruth  warn  me  against 
the  eup,  but  I  would  not  hear.  The  time  has  come  when 
it  is  too  late." 

For  some  days  the  house  was  darkened  and  the  nurse 
moved  about  the  room  with  careful  tread.  Marie  had 
a  lingering  attack  and  it  required  the  doctor's  utmost  skill 
to  prevent  her  from  a  most  serious  illness.  At  last  she 
began  to  mend  and  the  physician  gave  his  permission  for 
her  to  drive  out  and  take  the  ocean  breeze  that  came 
sweeping  in  through  the  Golden  Gate. 

Earnest  Stocklaid  had  time  to  think  of  his  downfall 
and  to  what  point  of  destruction  he  was  tending.  For  a 
time  it  made  him  a  better  man,  but  try  as  she  would,  Marie 
could  not  induce  him  to  take  the  pledge  of  total  absti 
ueme,  nor  promise  that  he  would  refrain  from  playing 
games  of  chance.  It  began  to  look  as  though  this  res 
pite  was  only  the  gathering  of  the  mists  that  would  by 
and  by  burst  in  a  fiercer  storm  upon  Marie's  defenseless 
head. 


184  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

When  we  pause  to  think  of  the  many  victims  of  the 
drink  traffic,  the  many  unhappy  homes,  the  many  aching 
hearts  that  are  bewailing  this  curse  in  the  land,  one  feels 
that  Uncle  Sam  should  have  pity  on  the  defenseless 
women  and  children  and  strike  rum  from  the  land. 
But,  alas!  when  Christian  voters  have  steeled  their  hearts 
against  pity  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  humanity's  wail! 
Poor  Marie!  Fate's  hand  rests  heavily  upon  her.  Her 
lot  is  but  one  of  the  many,  for  just  below,  in  the  street  in 
San  Francisco,  are  thousands  whose  sufferings  are  more 
intense  than  hers,  for  in  addition  to  the  hurt  of  the  rum 
fiend,  they  also  have  the  sting  of  poverty.  We  ask,  how 
long  will  this  accursed  traffic  be  suffered  to  live  and  work 
evil  in  the  land? 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

MARIE'S  VOW  TO  HEAVEN. 

The  days  of  maternity  were  ended.  Marie  lay  upon 
her  bed  white  and  still  after  a  long  struggle  at  the  verge 
of  the  grave.  The  nurse  sat  near  the  bedside,  holding  in 
her  arms  a  wee  speck  of  humanity  that  God  had  just  given 
to  earth.  The  mother's  wistful  eyes  looked  askance  at 
the  good  woman,  but  no  word  was  spoken.  At  length 
the  doctor  came  and  bowed  his  head  to  catch  her  feeble 
words.  She  was  saying:  "May  I  not  see  my  baby?" 

"After  a  while,  Marie ;  wait  until  you  are  a  little  strong 
er.  Take  this  potion  now  and  close  your  eyes  for  a  little 
time." 

Soon  Marie  was  sleeping.  Gently,  almost  as  thought, 
the  nurse  came  and  slipped  the  babe  into  the  bed  beside 
the  mother,  then  vanished  from  the  room.  After  a  mo 
ment — was  it  motherly  instinct,  or  was  she  dreaming? — 
she  became  conscious  of  its  presence.  Yes,  there  it  was; 
the  tiny  thing  that  her  eyes  had  yearned  to  see.  Now  it 
lay  at  her  side;  she  could  feel  the  little  soft  hand  as  it  lay 
nestled  in  her  own  and  she  could  distinguish  the  flutter  of 
the  little  heart  and  realized  that  it  was  her  own,  own 
baby.  The  o'ermastering  love  of  motherhood  came 
grandly  into  her  soul,  and  for  a  moment  her  life  was 
freighted  with  the  most  perfect  joy  that  ever  comes  flood 
ing  into  a  woman's  life.  Her  eyes  longed  to  look  upon 
the  child  that  was  all  her  own.  What  was  it  like?  She 
tried  to  raise  her  head  that  she  might  see  its  face,  but 
somehow  her  eyes  were  dim  and  she  waited  to  gather 
strength.  At  last,  with  an  effort,  she  rolled  the  blanket 


188  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

away  and  gazed  with  tenderness  upon  the  little  one  as 
it  lay  snuggled  closely  upon  her  arm.  Oh,  what  joy!  to 
behold  such  perfectly  molded  features!  But  she  wanted 
•to  see  it  all.  Gently  turning  the  little  face,  she  drew  it 
upon  her  breast  and  then,  one  look,  and  she  fell  back 
on  her  pillow,  while  an  agonized  expression  of  pain 
swept  over  her  countenance;  her  brain  reeled  and  she 
forgot  this  world  as  she  lay  there  with  her  child  upon 
her  bosom.  The  nurse  came,  then  with  rapid  step 
hastened  into  the  next  room  for  the  doctor.  Restoratives 
were  applied.  After  a  great  while  the  white  lids  fluttered 
and  the  blue  eyes  opened  once  more.  Pleadingly 
she  looked  up  into  the  good  man's  face  and  said: 
"Doctor,  must  it  be  so?  Can't  you  do  something  to 
help  it?" 

"Nothing,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  only  to  ask  you  to  be  strong 
and  bear  it  bravely." 

"Lift  him  up,  doctor,  that  I  may  look  at  him  again." 

The  good  man  lifted  the  infant  in  his  gentle  arms  and 
brought  the  little  face  fully  in  view  of  the  mother.  There, 
just  in  front  of  the  ear  on  the  child's  face,  were  marks 
put  there  to  stay  for  life — an  impression  photographed  by 
the  mother  upon  the  child  the  very  day  the  father  had 
come  in  upon  her  in  a  state  of  intoxication.  Marie  closed 
her  eyes,  and  a  deep  groan  issued  from  her  lips.  After  a 
while  in  agony  she  struggled  to  break  the  spell,  and  once 
more  thought  of  the  world.  At  length  she  said:  "Doc 
tor,  aside  from  this  is  the  body  perfect?"  The  good  man 
hesitated  for  a  moment  as  though  he  would  spare  her 
feelings,  and  then  answered :  "No,  dear  Marie,  one  knee 
is  deformed,  but  it  is  possible  that  it  can  be  helped." 

The  mother  lay  in  an  agony  of  grief  and  then  said: 
"Lay  him  upon  my  breast,  doctor,  that  I  may  feel  his  heart 
beat  against  my  own."  After  complying  with  her  request 


MARIE'S  VOW  TO  HEAVEN.  189 

he  was  about  to  turn  away,  when  she  clung  to  him  with 
one  feeble  hand,  and  then  lifting  the  other  to  heaven, 
said:  "Oh,  God,  hear  and  record  my  vow  this  day:  As 
long  as  I  live  I  will  fight  the  demon  drink  that  has 
wrought  this  awful  curse  upon  my  child." 

The  nurse  came  and  was  about  to  take  the  little  one 
from  her  when  Marie  continued:  "Doctor,  will  you  take 
him  in  your  arms  once  more?"  Lifting  the  little  one  up, 
the  good  old  doctor  smiled  as  she  said:  "I  have  often 
been  told  that  I  was  named  while  lying  on  your  hands, 
and  now  in  like  manner  I  wish  to  name  my  son  before 
you  leave  my  bedside  that  you  may  present  him  to  his 
father  ere  you  go."  The  nurse  raised  her  on  the  pillow. 
She  took  the  hand  of  her  child,  whose  fingers  closed 
around  her  own,  and  said:  "I  name  him  Earnest  Earn- 
estine  Stocklaid.  I  give  you,  my  child,  with  your  heritage 
to  your  father,  Earnest  Stocklaid." 

The  father  arose  from  his  chair,  and  with  an  un 
steady  step  came  and  stood  by  the  bedside  of  his  wife, 
whom  he  could  have  loved  tenderly  but  for  rum.  He  re 
ceived,  as  the  doctor  laid  him  in  his  arms,  the  child  that 
was  born  with  the  heritage  of  a  drunkard — his  own  son. 

Marie  looked  up  into  the  father's  face  and  said,  oh 
so  tenderly:  "Earnest,  husband,  won't  you  take  the 
pledge  to-day  for  Earnie's  sake?" 

The  miserable  father  regarded  the  boy  for  a  moment 
while  tears  welled  up  in  his  eyes,  and  then  laying  him 
back  in  his  mother's  bosom,  he  left  the  room  without  a 
word.  Ah,  you  dear  father,  whose  eyes  are  resting  upon 
this  page,  have  you  ever  stood  where  Earnest  Stocklaid 
stood  that  day  and  discovered  that  your  love  for  rum 
was  stronger  than  your  love  for  wife  and  child?  If  so, 
may  God  have  pity  on  your  poor  soul  and  help  you  to  feel 
the  responsibility  of  fatherhood. 


190 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


When  a  man  takes  to  his  heart  a  pure  and  trusting 
woman,  promising  to  be  her  husband,  friend  and  prolec- 
tor,  in  that  moment  he  makes  himself  not  only  responsi 
ble  to  his  wife,  but  responsible  to  his  God,  whether  he  ful 
fill  that  holy  mission  or  not.  Earnest  Stocklaid  had 
failed  in  his  mission  to  both  his  wife  and  child.  Are  you 
amenable  to  the  judgment  of  God  as  well  as  he?  God 
pity  that  man  who  is  not  able  to  love  his  wife  as  his  own 
soul  or  better  than  he  loves  rum,  for  he  doth  not  know, 
neither  can  he  enter  into  the  perfect  joy  of  man. 


OLD    OCEAN. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DOINGS  AT  THE  MANSION. 

Of  late  Earnest  Stocklaid  and  Harry  Rumsford  had 
been  dealing  in  stocks,  and  rumor  said  they  had  lost  heav 
ily.  Whether  this  were  true  or  not,  Marie  could  not  tell. 
But  one  thing1  she  knew,  her  bank  account  had  grown 
suddenly  less;  and  when  she  investigated  the  matter  found, 
to  her  regret  that  her  own  name  had  been  forged  by  her 
husband  for  immense  sums  of  money. 

What  could  she  do  about  it?  To  make  any  stir  or  out 
cry  would  be  but  to  engender  strife  and  lay  her  sorrows 
open  to  the  world.  If  it  had  been  any  other  than  her 
husband  she  would  have  protected  herself  by  the  law. 
But  open  disgrace  for  him  in  a  criminal  court  meant  open 
disgrace  for  herself  and  child,  and  she  felt  that  she  could 
not  face  the  scandal.  She  therefore  said:  "I  will  forego 
this  offense  and  warn  my  agents  to  be  on  their  guard  and 
protect  me  from  further  wrong." 

She  now  saw  the  necessity  of  economizing,  and  thought 
by  cutting  down  expenses  she  might  in  some  way  repair 
the  loss.  She  tried  her  best,  but  could  not  get  the  do 
mestic  and  business  machinery  to  run  smoothly  without 
money.  Many  enormous  bills  were  sent  for  her  to  meet — 
things  for  which  she  could  give  no  earthly  account. 

Her  business  agent  was  perplexed  and  upbraided  her 
sharply  for  the  destruction  of  the  wine  revenue.  Marie 
had  no  knowledge  of  business  and  could  not  tell  about 
the  legality  of  many  things.  Somehow  her  fortune  seemed 
to  be  vanishing  like  mist  before  the  wind  and  she  could 


194  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

not  understand  why  so  many  long  written  documents 
were  presented  for  her  to  sign. 

Once  she  refused  to  put  her  name  to  a  certain  paper 
until  she  had  a  better  understanding  of  them,  but  her 
husband  flew  into  a  rage,  and  to  bring  peace  she  signed 
her  name,  hoping  to  settle  the  matter. 

Her  sorrows  were  many  and  great.  Standing,  as  she 
did,  high  in  social  life,  she  was  loath  to  tell  her  troubles 
lest  "Mother  Grundy"  make  her  a  subject  of  gossip.  She 
now  saw  little  of  her  husband,  who  was  seldom  sober, 
and  who  was  always  happier  out  of  her  presence.  His 
love  for  her  seemed  to  have  faded,  and  for  little  Earnie 
he  had  an  especial  aversion. 

This  last  was  a  deep  sorrow  to  Marie,  who  had  taught 
the  child  to  say  "Papa"  as  soon  as  he  could  speak.  As  he 
grew  the  little  fellow  continued  lame  and  was  always  found 
resting  upon  his  crutch  waiting  at  the  front  gate  in  happy 
anticipation  of  a  walk  to  the  house  with  his  papa,  whom 
he  fondly  loved — never  dreaming  that  his  affection  was 
not  warmly  reciprocated. 

Even  though  blighted,  Earnest  Earnestine  was  a  source 
of  comfort  to  his  mother.  She  had  invested  her  life  for 
the  boy  and  meant,  as  soon  as  the  child  was  sufficiently 
old,  to  begin  her  work  in  the  cause  of  temperance.  She 
always  felt  that  she  should  unite  with  some  temperance 
society,  but  did  not  know  just  how  to  get  about  it.  She 
feared  lest  in  some  way  she  might  become  associated  with 
women  who  were  coarse  and  illiterate.  Poor  child !  Had 
she  but  stopped  to  think  that  her  association  with  a  drunk 
ard  was  more  demoralizing  to  the  chastity  of  her  spirit 
than  the  illiteracy  of  zealous,  earnest-hearted  women, 
how  earnestly  she  would  have  sought  out  those  from 
whom  she  was  shrinking!  Then  her  fear  of  public  work 
would  have  vanished. 


DOINGS  AT  THE  MANSION.  195 

Once  Jeanetta,  her  servant,  had  asked  her  to  join  the 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union  and  tried  as  best 
she  could  to  explain  the  object  of  that  society;  but  it  was 
not  made  clear  and  since  that  day  no  one  had  even  men 
tioned  the  subject  or  asked  her  to  become  a  member. 

She  now  saw  that  something  must  be  done;  but  just 
what  to  do  she  could  not  tell.  Ruth  had  been  in  the  east 
three  years  or  more  and  Marie  missed  the  inspiration 
which  she  was  accustomed  to  draw  from  her.  Her  for 
tune,  too,  which  five  years  before  had  looked  like  an  ever 
lasting  store  of  capital,  had  been  dwindling  away.  All 
she  now  had  was  the  Ranch  Earnestine  and  the  mansion 
in  which  she  lived.  Upon  the  latter,  too,  she  had  recent 
ly  learned,  was  a  heavy  mortgage  which  could  not  be 
met. 

Earnest  continued  in  his  profligate  ways  and  of  late 
was  growing  morose.  His  presence  around  the  house 
was  a  burden. 

Several  of  the  house  servants  had  been  discharged,  and 
many  changes  for  the  sake  of  reducing  expenses  had  been 
made.  The  world  now  more  than  ever  began  to  look 
dark  to  Marie  Stocklaid,  and  unless  a  change  were  to 
come  soon,  she  felt  that  she  must  yield  to  despair.  Life, 
like  clouds,  often  have  a  silvery  lining,  and  a  recent  letter 
had  come  from  Ruth  announcing  the  glad  news  that  she 
would  soon  return  to  California.  This  letter  seemed  to 
contain  a  promise  to  Marie  of  better  things,  for  she  said: 
"Ruth  always  did  have  the  happy  faculty  of  making  things 
run  smoothly." 

Of  late  she  had  begun  to  miss  things  from  the  man 
sion.  Several  pieces  of  silver  had  disappeared  from  the 
sideboard  and  many  valuable  articles  from  the  various 
rooms  were  also  gone.  Marie  thought  it  was  owing  to 
the  change  in  servants,  and  that  unskilled  labor  was  mak- 


196  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

ing  up  for  low  wages  by  pilfering  things  from  the  house. 
All  these  trials  wore  upon  Marie,  and  silver  hairs  were 
now  beginning  to  show  among  the  beautiful  brown  that 
crowned  her  brow.  She  took  courage,  for  she  heard  that 
Ruth  was  coming  to  the  city  on  the  following  week,  and 
she  said:  "That  dear  girl  is  so  wise;  she  will  show  me 
what  part  of  the  machinery  that  runs  the  household  is 
loose." 

She  had  taught  little  Earnie  to  say  "Auntie  Ruth,"  and 
she  had  taught  him  also  to  speak  a  temperance  verse. 
The  child,  too,  was  waiting  anxiously  for  the  happy  day 
when  he  should  see  the  dear  lady  that  his  mamma  talked 
so  much  about.  Many  were  the  air  castles  he  built. 
He  also  told  of  what  he  would  do  when  "Auntie  Ruth 
sould  turn." 

Ah,  happy  and  joyous  childhood,  so  sweet  and  trusting 
and  full  of  hope!  Who  is  there  on  earth  that  knows  the 
meaning  of  Heaven  like  a  mother  knows  after  she  has 
looked  for  the  first  time  into  the  baby  eyes  of  an  innocent 
child  all  her  own?  There  is  no  guile  there.  Perfect  love 
casteth  out  fear.  The  child  trusts  its  mother  as  a  soul 
trusts  its  God.  Such  was  Marie's  experience  with  her 
son.  God,  as  if  to  make  amends  for  physical  deformi 
ties,  had  given  to  the  boy  a  noble  intellect  and  a  sweet, 
trusting  spirit  such  as  few  children  possessed.  Even  when 
the  slippery  sands  of  life  were  breaking  from  beneath  her 
feet,  she  felt  that  in  this  boy  there  was  something  that 
would  some  day  make  the  world  better  for  his  having 
lived  in  it. 

The  days  and  months  were  passing  on.  Responsibili 
ties  of  life  were  increasing,  yet  the  fond  mother  felt  that 
she  had  a  stay  and  comfort  in  her  son.  Happy  is  the 
man  or  woman  who  has  yet  left  to  her  the  love  of  a  little 
child!  The  thunders  of  life's  storms  may  roll  over  the 


DOINGS  AT  THE  MANSION. 


197 


soul  and  the  lightnings  of  remorse  shiver  the  citadel  of 
reason,  but  that  secret  place  where  the  mother  hides  away 
her  troubles  is  in  the  heart  of  her  child.  The  child  is  as 
sacred  to  God  as  unto  herself. 

Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,  who  in  His  divine 
plan  of  creation  thought  to  give  to  the  home  a  little  child ! 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  who  in  His  plan  of 
salvation  to  the  world  thought  to  give  to  earth  a  little 
?hild — His  only  begotten  Son! 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    SINS    OF    THE    FATHER    TRANSMITTED    TO    THE 

CHILD. 

The  fog  had  hung  dark  and  gloomy  over  San  Francisco 
for  some  days  and  things  about  the  mansion  had  been 
gloomier  still,  for  Earnest  had  been  on  a  spree  of  unusual 
length,  during  which  time  the  family,  and  even  the  serv 
ants,  had  stood  in  mortal  fear  and  dread  of  him.  But  this 
morning,  in  which  our  chapter  begins,  the  sun  rose 
brightly;  and  little  Earnie,  whose  irrepressible  spirit  had 
been  making  the  halls  and  corridors  ring  with  childish 
glee,  came  rushing  into  his  mother's  room  and  joyfully 
exclaimed:  "Oh,  mamma!  Our  papa  is  in  ze  brekfas 
room  an  he  is  sober,  he  is;  say,  mamma,  he  let  me  climb 
on  his  knee  and  tomb  his  turls,  he  did.  Oh,  mamma,  isn't 
our  papa  nice?"  Marie  clasped  the  happy  little  fellow 
to  her  bosom  and  replied:  ''Yes,  darling,  mamma  thinks 
your  papa  nice.  There  goes  the  breakfast  bell.  Let  us 
hasten  below  for  Auntie  Ruth  is  coming  to-day." 

The  little  fellow  gave  a  glad  shout  and  away  he  went 
on  his  crutch,  while  his  mother  joined  him  in  a  happy 
chase. 

Marie  hesitatingly  opened  the  door;  and  sure  enough, 
her  husband,  for  once  in  his  life,  had  preceded  her  into 
the  breakfast  room  and  looked  up  as  she  entered  with  a 
pleasant  "Good-morning."  Adjusting  the  curtain  so  as 
to  let  the  beautiful  sunlight  stream  into  the  room,  she  came 
and  stood  by  him  in  the  old  familiar  way  and  twined  her 
fingers  in  the  brown  curls  that  clustered  upon  his  brow. 
Earnest  looked  up  into  her  face,  and  she  saw  a  strange 


200  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

look  in  his  eyes.  Feeling  some  fear,  she  merely  bowed  her 
head  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  his  forehead  and  took 
her  seat  at  the  table.  "Oh,  papa!"  exclaimed  Earnie, 
"my  Auntie  Ruth  is  tumin  to-day,  her  is!  Won't  that  be 
jolly,  papa?" 

Earnest  Stocklaid  did  not  heed  his  child's  words,  but 
seemed  to  be  lost  in  thought.     At  length  Marie  said: 
"Come,  husband,  your  coffee  is  getting  cold.     Do  you 
not  wish  for  breakfast  this  morning?"     Still  he  did  not 
speak,  but  got  up  and  wandered  aimlessly  about  the  room. 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  did  not  understand  his  mood,  but  had 
grown  used  to  any  spell  that  might  possess  him,  and  did 
not  press  him  for  a  reason  as  to  his  feelings.  She  and 
Earnie  ate  their  breakfast  in^silence. 

After  a  time  he  snatched  up  his  hat  as  if  in  a  hurry  and 
rushed  out  of  the  house  and  then  downtown,  as  was  his 
usual  habit.  Soon  as  Marie  had  arisen  from  the  table, 
she  ordered  the  carriage  to  be  sent  for  Ruth.  A  messen 
ger  had  brought  Ruth's  card  the  evening  before  announc 
ing  her  arrival  at  the  Palace  Hotel.  In  a  way  she  dreaded 
the  arrival  of  her  old  friend  an  demploye,  for  the  thought 
of  presenting  little  Earnie  with  his  deformed  body  seemed 
dreadful  to  her.  In  the  years  gone  by,  even  before  she  had 
consented  to  become  the  wife  of  Earnest  Stocklaid,  Ruth 
had  warned  her  what  posterity  might  become  from  such 
a  union.  It  was  a  regret  to  present  him  as  he  was.  She 
mastered  her  pride,  however,  and  led  the  little  man  into  the 
room  and  introduced  him  to  her  guest. 

Ruth  Mansfield  took  the  boy  upon  her  knee  and  looked 
tenderly  into  his  brown  eyes.  She  caressed  his  high,  noble 
brow  with  the  wealth  of  chestnut  curls  clustering  about  it, 
and  then  covering  the  birthmark  with  her  handkerchief, 
pressed  a  kiss  upon  the  little  rosebud  mouth  just  as  he 
whispered:  "My  Auntie  Ruth."  The  ordeal  was  over 


SINS  OF  THE  FATHER.  201 

and  Marie  threw  her  arms  about  the  girl  and  sobbed 
upon  her  bosom. 

"Oh,  Ruth,"  she  said,  "you  told  me  how  it  would  be 
and  I  might  have  saved  my  child  from  such  a  fate;  but 
I  would  not  listen.  Tell  me,  how  can  my  darling  boy  go 
through  life  with  that  blight  upon  him?" 

Ruth  took  the  hand  that  was  extended  to  her,  the  same 
one  that  had  so  often  been  withdrawn  in  disdain,  and 
affectionately  pressed  it  to  her  lips.  "Marie,  dear,  fear  not 
for  your  boy's  outward  affliction,  for  this  might  have  come 
to  him  from  any  other  source  than  through  his  father,  but, 
Marie,  the  blood  of  a  drunkard  surges  through  his  veins 
and  it  is  the  appetite  and  proclivities  of  the  child  over 
which  you  need  to  lament ;  it  is  the  spirit,  not  the  flesh." 

Marie  gathered  her  son  to  her  bosom  and  tenderly 
caressed  him  ere  she  spoke.  "Ruth,"  she  said,  "how  can 
a  spirit  so  lovely  and  gentle  as  that  of  my  child  be  anything 
but  good?  Think  you  that  I  have  any  cause  to  fear?" 

Ruth  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  to  get  her  thoughts 
in  order,  for  what  she  wished  to  speak  about  was  for  the 
future  benefit  of  this  tender,  loving  mother.  Then  she 
began:  "Marie,  did  you  ever  think  what  sort  of  a  child 
his  father  must  have  been?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  Marie  had  thought  of  it,  and  taking  her  com 
panion  by  the  hand,  led  her  to  a  portrait  that  hung  in  full 
life  size  upon  the  walls  of  the  drawing  room.  There  was 
a  merry,  laughing  boy,  just  brimming  full  of  mischief, 
whose  very  soul  was  in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  back  at  them 
from  the  canvas.  The  exact  counterpart  of  the  child  that 
now  clung  to  Ruth's  finger — one  would  almost  suppose 
it  to  be  the  same. 

"And  this  was  Earnest,  Marie?" 

"Yes,  dear;  don't  you  think  my  son  bears  a  striking 
resemblance  to  his  father?" 


"02  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

"Yes,  it  is  a  very  remarkable  one  and  I  do  not  wonder 
that  you  are  such  a  devoted  mother,  for  no  such  repro 
duction  could  have  been  except  through  your  perfect  love 
for  its  progenitor.  Thus  you  see,  dear  mother,  that  thia 
little  spirit,  the  offspring  of  perfect  love,  is  of  God;  and 
God  is  good,  not  evil.  It  is  only  children  begotten  with 
out  love  whose  very  existence  but  tends  toward  darkness 
instead  of  light.  So  you  see,  Marie,  that  you  have  much 
to  build  upon  in  the  character  of  your  child."  She  pointed 
to  the  portrait  and  said:  'That  merry,  laughing  boy  who 
seems  as  you  look  at  him  so  angelic  and  pure,  even  he, 
the  father  of  your  child,  fell  and  became  a  drunkard.  Can 
you  hope  for  anything  better  in  Earnie?" 

Marie  caught  her  son  to  her  bosom,  while  a  wave  of 
agonizing  grief  swept  over  her  soul,  and  she  cried:  "Oh, 
Ruth!  I  love  my  child,  but  rather  than  see  him  as  his 
father  is  I  would  gladly  give  him  up  to  the  grave.  Tell 
me,  what  can  I  do  to  save  him  from  such  a  wretched 
life?" 

"Set  your  fortifications  around  his  weakness,  Marie, 
and  begin  to  build  up  character  in  him  that  he  may  be 
able  to  withstand  temptation.  Your  work  must  be  'pre 
cept  upon  precept,  precept  upon  precept;  line  upon  line, 
line  upon  line;  here  a  little,  and  there  a  little,'  according 
to  the  instructions  given  by  the  grand  old  prophet, 
Isaiah,  who  has  indeed  shown  us  by  his  teachings  just 
how  to  fortify  the  generations  against  the  curse  of  drink." 

Winding  her  arms  about  Ruth,  Marie  led  her  back  to 
her  seat  and  in  a  spirit  of  unutterable  tenderness,  said: 
"Dear  Ruth,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come!  You  have 
ever  been  my  good  angel  and  had  I  listened  to  your  kind, 
motherly  counsel  what  a  world  of  sorrow  I  should  have 
been  saved.  But,  dear  one,  my  life  is  not  yet  all  lived, 


SINS  OF  THE  FATHER.  203 

and  perhaps  there  is  time  to  profit  somewhat  by  your 
teachings  and  blessed  counsel. 

"First  of  all,  Ruth,  before  we  arrive  at  the  real  work 
wherein  I  need  your  help,  explain  to  me  more  fully  the 
meaning  of  prenatal  influences  and  the  law  that  governs 
heredity." 

Ruth  smiled  with  satisfaction,  for  above  all  she  wished 
to  say  just  these  things  to  this  dear  mother,  and  she  began. 

Drawing  Earnie  to  her  side,  she  explained:  "There 
are  volumes  of  scientific  thoughts  upon  this  subject  which 
it  will  do  you  good  to  read,  but  just  now  I  will  take  delight 
in  unfolding  a  little  of  this  truth  to  you."  Laying  her 
finger  gently  upon  the  birthmark  of  the  child,  she  said: 
"This  dear,  can  not  properly  be  called  an  inherited  like 
ness,  and  yet  it  was  placed  there  through  the  conduct 
of  the  father  and  might  be  handed  down  to  the  progeny 
of  the  child.  You  must  understand  that  that  passage  of 
the  written  law  where  Moses  said,  'The  sins  of  the  fathers 
shall  be  visited  upon  the  children/  is  fully  exemplified  in 
this  case.  It  was  the  environment  that  the  father  threw 
around  you  that  is  here  reflected  in  your  child. 

"This  is  manifested  in  the  flesh,  but  the  same  law  which 
put  this  here  can  also  place  a  stamp  upon  the  soul.  For 
instance,  that  thing  of  which  you  stand  in  mortal  fear, 
coming  suddenly  upon  you,  is  stamped  upon  the  flesh; 
but  were  it  to  come  upon  you  moderately,  giving  you  time 
to  repulse  it  mentally,  it  would  leave  its  impress  upon  the 
soul  of  your  child. 

"So  it  is  often  true  that  a  child  whose  progenitors  are 
perfectly  free  from  loathsome  taints,  such  as  licentiousness 
and  a  tendency  to  alcoholics  and  tobacco,  may  have  had 
a  propensity  for  vice  placed  in  its  spirit  by  the  mother 
because  of  unhappy  environments  thrown  around  her. 
For  instance,  a  mother  said  to  me  not  long  ago:  'My 


204  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

son  is  a  tobacco  fiend;  explain  to  me,  if  you  can,  how  it 
can  be  so,  since  there  has  never  been  a  tobacco  user  in 
all  our  generations.'  When  questioned  to  ascerts-in 
whether  he  had  acquired  the  habit  by  foolhardy  indul 
gence,  she  said:  'Oh,  no,  from  his  birth  he  has  had  an 
insatiable  love  for  the  weed,  and  it  has  simply  beer  beyond 
my  power  to  prevent  him  from  its  use.' 

"Carefully  inquiring  into  her  state  during  tlin  time  of 
her  pregnancy,  she  explained  that  her  environments  had 
been  of  the  most  loathsome  sort.  She  was  obliged  daily 
to  endure  the  fumes  of  tobacco  from  an  agp.d  person  who 
had  been  left  to  her  charge. 

"Thus,  dear  Marie,  you  can  see  that  these  things  come 
both  from  environment,  also  from  inheritance.  That 
thing  which  is  exceedingly  loathsome,  as  well  as  peculiar 
ly  agreeable  to  the  mother,  may  leave  its  imprint  upon 
either  the  body  or  the  spirit  of  the  chile  unborn. 

"But  I  would  not  linger  on  the  picture  of  evil  propensi 
ties,  for  I  can  see  written  within  the  depths  of  your  child's 
soulful  eyes  many  happy  environments  which  have  come 
from  your  life,  even  before  and  after  his  birth.  Yes,  I 
can  see  from  his  gentle  spirit  and  deep,  intellectual  face 
that  your  teachings  have  been  such  as  will  have  a  ten 
dency  to  crush  the  evil,  and  upon  its  foundation  you  can 
build  up  a  character  that  will  thwart  the  forces  of  trans 
mitted  law." 

Marie  sat  an  eager  auditor  to  it  all,  greedily  devouring 
the  words  as  they  fell  from  the  woman's  lips.  As  Ruth 
ceased  speaking,  Marie  said:  "There  is  one  other  point 
which  you  have  not  yet  made  plain  to  me.  What  is  the 
matter  with  Earnie's  knee?  How  could  it  have  been 
deformed?" 

Ruth  smiled  wisely  as  her  hand  rested  upon  the  little 
boy's  crutch,  and  replied:  "The  law  which  governs  that 


SINS  OF  THE  FATHER.  205 

part  of  your  child's  misfortune,  Marie,  is  a  simple  one, 
but  in  order  to  make  it  plain  I  must  recall  the  painful 
memory  of  its  occasion  You  remember  that  day  when 
your  husband  appeared  before  you  in  a  drunken  condi 
tion,  giving  you  a  horrible  fright?  The  sound  of  his  un 
natural  voice  and  the  sight  of  his  wounded  head  were 
telegraphed  to  your  soul  and  body  at  one  and  the  same 
instant.  It  first  struck  your  brain,  which  is  the  seat  of 
thought,  and  then  went  quivering  over  your  being, 
telegraphing  the  horror  to  every  nerve  in  your  body. 
Extending  downward,  it  enveloped  your  child  and  had 
reached  as  far  as  your  knee  when  reason  forsook  her 
throne,  throwing  down  the  wires  and  making  the  greatest 
jungle  of  confusion  at  the  point  where  the  message  ter 
minated.  If  you  remember,  when  you  arose  you  could 
not  walk,  as  there  was  no  strength  in  your  knee.  Had 
you  have  understood  the  law  at  the  moment  of  your 
shocking  encounter  you  could  by  vital  force  have  broken 
the  condition  of  the  shock  and  saved  your  child.  But 
this  is  now  done,  Marie,  and  you  have  the  dear  little  fel 
low  just  as  he  is.  Make  the  most  of  him.  Arguments 
and  tears  can  not  change  his  case,  nor  make  one  hair  of 
his  head  change  color.  He  is  with  you,  all  your  own,  and 
a  beautiful  boy,  too.  God  has  placed  within  your  care  and 
keeping  this  precious  soul.  Will  you  train  him  for  hell 
or  Heaven,  for  darkness  or  for  light?  It  rests  with  you 
whether  he  will  be  a  blessing  or  a  curse  in  the  world. 
Yes,  it  is  for  you  whether  or  no  your  child  will  be  an 
honor  to  his  country  and  a  glory  to  his  God.  A  mother's 
teaching  invariably  frames  the  destiny  of  the  child's  soul." 
"I  see  the  force  of  your  arguments,  dear  Ruth,"  said 
Marie,  "and  I  feel  as  I  long  have  felt,  that  there  is  some 
thing  lacking  in  my  Christian  experience  to  make  me  a 
perfect  mother.  I  do  not  know  what  I  can  do  to  enlarge 


206  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

my  capacity  for  holiness,  or  to  bring  me  to  that  point 
where  I  can  more  ably  and  perfectly  fulfill  my  mission 
to  my  child. 

"I  have  been  faithful  to  my  church  and  have  never  once 
omitted  making  a  full  confession  of  all  my  sins.  I  have 
given  largely  to  the  support  of  the  gospel  and  have  tried 
to  teach  Earnie  the  catechism  in  all  faithfulness  of  heart. 
If  I  have  not  kept  the  whole  law,  then,  dear  Ruth,  I  do 
not  know  it,  for  I  have  done  the  best  I  could.  What 
would  you  counsel  me  to  do  further?  Tell  me,  what  is 
the  course  you  would  mark  out  for  me  to  pursue?" 

A  peculiarly  tender,  holy  awe  was  in  Ruth  voice  as  she 
replied:  "Other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that 
which  is  laid,  which  is  Christ  Jesus.  A  mother  has  but 
one  safeguard,  Marie,  and  that  is  in  the  Bible  and  prayer. 
Have  you  established  a  family  altar  in  your  home  where 
Earnie,  your  husband,  and  your  servants  can  kneel  with 
you  as  you  read  from  that  blessed  book?  Do  you  let 
Jesus  come  right  into  your  heart  and  abide  with  you  in 
all  the  fullness  of  His  love  so  that  the  world  may  know 
from  the  joy  that  shines  in  your  face  that  He  is  in  you  and 
you  in  Him?" 

A  crimson  glow  diffused  the  lips  and  brow  of  the  young 
mother  as  she  frankly  made  answer:  "No,  Ruth,  I  do 
not  believe  that  Holy  One  has  ever  come  into  my  heart. 
Once  when  I  was  in  deep  sorrow  I  tried  to  pray  as  I  have 
heard  you  pray,  but  the  heavens  were  as  brass  above  my 
head  and  God  was  far  beyond  the  hearing  of  my  feeble 
voice.  And  feeling  that  I  must  bear  my  grief  alone,  I 
kissed  the  crucifix  and  came  back  to  the  prayers  of  my 
church  and  have  tried  to  be  content.  I  put  the  Bible 
which  you  gave  me  away  and  hardened  my  heart  to  all 
your  religious  instructions,  and  since  that  day  have  not 
again  allowed  its  approach."  Arising,  she  went  and 


SINS  OP  THE  FATHER.  207 

brought  the  Holy  Book,  Ruth's  present  to  her  some  years 
before,  and  said :  "Open  it  for  me,  dear  girl,  for  if  there  is 
comfort  and  light  between  these  lids  for  me,  that  I  may 
better  understand  my  duty  to  my  child,  then  I  must  know 
it  for  myself." 

Opening  the  book  to  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  John's 
Gospel,  Ruth  began  and  expounded  the  truth  as  it  is  writ 
ten  in  all  the  fullness  of  His  promises.  And  then  turning 
page  after  page  of  the  book,  she  revealed,  in  all  tender 
ness,  the  spirit  of  Christ,  dwelling  at  great  length  upon 
His  promises  to  come  in  and  abide  with  us  and  keep  us 
from  sin. 

Most  firmly  did  she  impress  upon  the  woman's  mind  the 
fact  that  He  is  an  ever-present  Savior.  Then  she  asked: 
"Marie,  do  you  believe  God's  word?" 

"Yes,  Ruth,  I  do  believe." 

Then  said  she:  "Take  His  promises  and  believe  that 
God  and  His  holy  messengers  of  light  are  here.  Yes, 
and  the  blessed  Virgin,  too,  with  that  innumerable  com 
pany  of  angels  to  hear  and  answer  prayer.  The  heavens 
are  not  brass,  as  you  may  suppose;  neither  is  that  Blessed 
One,  who  went  away  to  send  the  'Comforter,'  so  far  re 
moved  from  earth  as  you  think.  He  is  even  here  to-day, 
Marie,  waiting  to  bestow  upon  you  the  gift  of  His  holy 
spirit,  who  will  come  in  and  abide  with  you  every  day  and 
hour  if  you  will  only  let  Him." 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  was  weeping,  and  a  broken  spirit  gave 
evidence  of  her  willingness  to  let  the  Lord  of  Heaven  take 
possession  of  her  heart.  The  two  knelt  there  in  prayer 
with  the  precious  little  boy,  who  had  one  arm  about  each 
neck.  The  pleading  of  Ruth's  soul  as  it  looked  out  from 
her  eyes  was  more  eloquent  than  words,  and  the  spirit 
that  went  forth  to  meet  a  soul  that  was  yielding  to  His 
touch  was,  at  that  moment,  sublime  with  a  Savior's  love; 


208  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

and  Marie  yielded  to  its  power.  Kneeling  there  with  their 
arms  twined  around  each  other,  God  eame  down  to  meet 
the  tired  soul  and  to  lift  the  burden  from  her  life.  Arising 
from  their  knees,  a  spirit  of  irradiation  beamed  from  her 
countenance  and  gave  evidence  that  she  was  indeed  "born 
again,"  and  Marie  Stocklaid  had  taken  one  step  upward 
in  her  Christian  experience. 

"Thus  the  weary  days  of  watching, 

And  the  nights  of  ceaseless  care 
That  had  tortured  so  her  being 

And  had  filled  her  with  despair, 
Now  were  laid  upon  the  altar 

For  the  Lord  to  bear  away; 
While  a  soul  could  sing  triumphant 

In  the  light  of  perfect  day." 


fr^&& 


FALSELY    ACCUSED. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FALSELY  ACCUSED. 

Marie  Stocklaid  stood  before  her  elegant  dressing  case 
with  a  surprised  look  upon  her  face.  Things  were  scat 
tered  about  the  room  in  great  confusion,  and  the  apart 
ment  looked  as  though  it  had  been  invaded  by  robbers. 
In  her  hand  she  held  her  empty  jewel  case,  which  she  had 
just  picked  up  from  the  floor. 

It  took  her  some  time  to  collect  her  thoughts  and  to 
come  to  an  understanding  of  what  had  happened  to  her 
treasures. 

At  last  it  dawned  upon  her  that  every  jewel  from  her 
case  had  disappeared.  What  could  have  become  of  them? 
She  knew  for  a  certainty  that  there  had  been  no  one  in 
her  room  that  morning  but  herself,  her  husband,  and 
Jeanetta,  the  nurse  girl,  whom  she  had  had  ever  since 
little  Earnie's  birth.  She  seemed  to  suspect  the  girl,  for 
who  else  could  have  done  this  wicked  deed? 

Had  this  have  been  the  first  thing  she  had  missed  from 
the  house  she  would  not  have  felt  so  bewildered;  but 
mystery  upon  mystery  seemed  to  envelop  the  place  and 
she  was  becoming  desperate.  Surely  there  must  be  an 
end  somewhere  and  she  felt  this  morning  as  though  this 
must  be  the  culminating  point  of  the  thievish  outrages 
that  had  been  perpetrated  upon  her,  and  some  one  must 
be  brought  to  justice. 

Giving  the  bell  a  sharp  ring  for  Jeanetta,  the  girl  came 
rushing  breathlessly  into  her  presence  to  know  what  was 
the  matter.  Beholding  the  look  upon  the  face  of  her 


212  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

mistress,  and  taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  she  ex 
claimed:  "May  the  holy  saints  guard  us,  my  lady!  Who 
has  entered  your  room?" 

Giving  the  girl  a  sharp  look,  she  replied:  "Jeanetta, 
you  know  very  well  that  there  has  not  a  soul  entered  my 
room  this  morning  but  yourself,  and  now  I  command  you 
to  bring  back  my  jewels  at  once  or  I  shall  immediately 
summon  an  officer  and  have  you  taken  to  the  police 
station." 

The  girl's  face  at  once  grew  crimson  with  fright  and 
then  pale.  Truly  no  culprit  ever  looked  more  guilty  than 
she  at  that  moment.  Marie  felt  certain  she  was  the  of 
fender. 

"I  will  give  you  just  five  minutes,  Jeanetta,  to  bring 
back  my  jewels  or  I  will  send  for  an  officer  and  have  you 
arrested." 

Falling  upon  her  knees  before  the  imperious  woman, 
Jeanetta  clung  to  her  skirts  and  asked  for  mercy.  "I  arn 
innocent,  Mrs.  Stocklaid.  I  pray  you  believe  what  I  say. 
Do  you  think  me  to  be  a  thief?  Remember  I  love  you 
and  please  remember  my  poor  sick  mother.  Do  you 
suppose  that  I  would  steal  your  lovely  jewels  and  break 
my  mother's  heart?  Oh,  my  lady,  I  have  not  touched 
them,  or  even  been  tempted  to  do  so." 

To  this  appeal  Marie  was  deaf,  for  she  was  convinced 
by  the  girl's  manner  that  she  was  guilty  of  the  theft. 
Therefore,  stepping  to  the  telephone,  she  called  an  of 
ficer  and  Jeanetta  was  hurried  off  to  the  station  amidst 
tears  of  protestations  of  innocence  and  the  screams  of 
little  Earnie,  who  clung  to  the  officer,  pounding  him  with 
his  baby  fists  and  persistently  demanding  that  he  "Let  his 
Nettie  alone." 

At  one  time  in  Marie's  life  this  morning's  work  would 
have  made  but  little  impression  on  her  conscience,  but  at 


FALSELY  ACCUSED.  213 

this  time  her  mind  was  greatly  disturbed  and  she  thought: 
"Oh,  if  Jeanetta  should  be  innocent,  what  an  awful  thing 
I  have  done." 

She  sat  down  to  her  embroidery  with  little  Earnie  sob 
bing  at  her  knee,  but  the  stitches  would  not  lie  evenly 
and  she  put  the  work  away;  then  she  tried  her  favorite 
author,  but  the  book  had  lost  its  fascination;  she  then 
took  a  walk  in  the  grounds,  but  the  bright  sunlight  of 
Heaven  rebuked  her  and  smote  sorely  upon  her  con 
science.  Again  she  thought  about  Jeanetta  down  in  the 
damp,  dark  city  prison,  and  she  fell  to  wondering  if  it 
was  really  Jeanetta  who  took  the  things  after  all.  Inad 
vertently  she  found  herself  back  in  her  own  room. 
Earnie  was  close  at  her  side  and  would  not  be  banished 
from  her  presence.  Tears  came  to  her  eyes  and  she 
slipped  down  upon  her  knees  by  the  bedside  and  prayed 
aloud.  She  plead  that  God  would  show  her  what  to  do; 
that  if  she  were  in  the  wrong  to  convince  her  of  it  and 
she  would  go  at  once  and  bring  Jeanetta  from  the  prison. 

Earnie  put  his  arms  tightly  about  his  mamma's  neck 
and  shouted:  "Tell  it  to  Auntie  Ruth,  mamma!  Tell  it 
to  Auntie  Ruth !  Her  will  show  you  how !" 

What  a  comforting  thought!  She  lifted  the  little  fel 
low  in  her  arms  and  tenderly  kissed  him,  then  hastened 
away  to  order  her  carriage. 

Strange  that  she  should  not  have  thought  of  Ruth  be 
fore  instead  of  acting  upon  her  own  impulse.  In  a  few 
moments  she  was  in  close  consultation  with  the  sage 
adviser,  Ruth  Mansfield,  who  had  proven  herself  to  be 
scarcely  ever  in  the  wrong.  As  she  listened,  Ruth's  face 
assumed  a  knowing  look,  as  much  as  to  say,  'T  have  my 
opinion  of  whom  the  culprit  may  be."  Arising,  she 
donned  her  bonnet  and  wraps  and  said  to  Mrs.  Stocklaid: 


214  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

"I  will  go  with  you  and  see  if  we  can  not  find  the  missing 
jewels." 

Taking  their  seats  in  the  carriage,  Ruth  gave  the  order 
and  a  search  began.  Up  one  street  and  down  another 
and  round  about  in  the  various  places  where  it  might  be 
possible  to  find  them  they  went  until  they  had  visited 
nearly  every  pawnbroker's  establishment  in  the  city.  Then 
Marie  began  to  think  that  Ruth  had  made  a  vain  search, 
when  the  girl  said  to  the  coachman:  "Now  to  Uncle 
Harris',  on  Kearney  street." 

That  rich  old  man  who  had  been  the  recipient  of  treas 
ures  for  many  years,  smilingly  came  forward  as  they  en 
tered  his  place  of  business  and  said:  "What  can  I  do 
for  you,  ladies?"  He  did  not  often  have  one  so  elegantly 
attired  as  Mrs.  Stocklaid  enter  his  place  and  he  was  ex 
ceedingly  gracious.  He  was  a  shrewd  business  man  and 
he  gave  Marie  a  searching  look  as  much  as  to  say:  "Is 
it  possible;  have  you  some  jewels  which  you  wish  to  de 
posit  with  me?"  But  Ruth  was  the  spokesman.  She  said 
brightly:  "Have  you  any  diamonds  on  exhibition,  Uncle 
Harris?  We  would  like  to  look  at  them  if  you  have." 

The  man  gave  them  a  keen,  sharp  look  and  said:  "Wish 
to  buy,  eh?"  Then  he  graciously  showed  them  what  he 
had  in  stock. 

None  seemed  to  just  suit  the  ladies,  and  with  a  decided 
ly  disappointed  air  they  were  about  to  turn  away  when  the 
old  man  said,  with  his  suspicions  quite  disarmed:  "I 
have  some  superb  jewels  that  I  have  just  received  this 
morning  which  have  not  yet  been  put  upon  exhibition; 
perhaps  you  would  be  glad  to  see  them." 

Stepping  to  a  private  drawer,  he  then  exhibited  the 
full  set  that  had  but  recently  left  Marie's  own  jewel  case. 

The  two  ladies  looked  knowingly  at  each  other  and  then 
at  the  man  before  them. 


FALSELY  ACCUSED.  215 

Ruth  waited  for  him  to  speak,  but  as  he  waited  in  silence 
Miss  Mansfield  said:  "Will  you  tell  us,  sir,  who  left 
these  here?" 

Going  to  the  book,  the  man  came  directly  back  and 
replied:  "Earnest  Stocklaid,  madam." 

Marie  caught  at  Ruth's  arm  for  support  and  with  a 
"Thank  you,  sir,"  to  the  obliging  pawnbroker,  she  said: 
"We  will  call  again  and  decide  about  them."  Then  the 
two  ladies  walked  out  of  the  store  and  once  more  took 
a  seat  in  the  carriage. 

"To  the  city  prison,"  said  Marie  to  the  coachman,  now 
having  regained  her  equilibrium.  She  was  anxious  to 
liberate  poor  Jeanetta.  The  coachman,  having  an  inkling 
of  the  business  on  hand,  gave  a  little  low  whistle,  inaudi 
ble  to  Marie's  ear,  and  cracking  his  whip,  in  three  min 
utes  they  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  old  city  hall,  be 
neath  which  poor  Jeanetta  in  a  cold,  gloomy  cell  was 
sobbing  her  eyes  out,  every  moment  growing  more  and 
more  bitter  at  heart  over  the  cruel  wrong  that  had  been 
done  her. 

Ruth  was  about  to  step  from  the  carriage  to  go  in 
quest  of  the  hapless  girl,  when  Marie  said:  "No,  Ruth, 
I  will  go,  since  it  was  my  hasty  act  that  made  me  wrong 
fully  do  the  girl  injustice." 

Ruth  looked  doubtfully  into  her  face  and  said :  "Marie, 
you  will  see  some  sad  sights  down  there.  You  had  bet 
ter  let  me,  who  am  accustomed  to  such  scenes,  go  for 
you." 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  shook  her  head,  then  walked  into  the 
office  of  the  chief  of  police. 

Making  her  errand  known,  she  said :  "I  was  altogether 
too  hasty  in  preferring  charges  against  the  child,  and 
wish  now  to  make  what  amends  I  can  by  coming  myself 
to  bring  her  away.  I  would  like  to  be  shown  to  her  cell 


216  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

that  I  may  the  sooner  tell  that  I  have  proven  her  innocent 
and  am  sorry  for  what  I  have  done/' 

The  face  of  the  erudite  administrator  of  the  law  as 
sumed  a  look  of  stern  severity  as  he  frowned  upon  the 
woman  and  uttered  the  following  rebuke :  "You  had  bet 
ter  think  twice,  madam,  before  you  send  a  young  girl 
into  that  foul  atmosphere!"  Then  speaking  to  an  officer 
at  his  side,  he  said:  "Show  this  woman  below,  and  be 
sure  you  give  her  a  fair  sight  of  the  inmates  of  the  prison." 

They  passed  down  the  corridor,  pushing  their  way 
past  a  crowd  of  rough  men,  then  descended  a  flight  of 
stairs.  Marie's  courage  began  to  fail.  Her  limbs  trem 
bled  and  would  barely  support  the  weight  of  her  body. 
Pausing  for  a  moment  at  the  bottom  of  the  flight,  she  said 
to  her  escort:  "Will  you  allow  me,  sir,  to  take  your  arm? 
For  some  reason  I  feel  very  shaky  over  this  affair,  and  it 
is  an  effort  for  me  to  stand." 

They  soon  stood  before  the  great  open  bars.  The 
turnkey  came,  opened  the  door  and  let  them  in.  A  chill 
ran  over  Marie's  body  when  she  heard  the  key  grate  in 
the  lock  again  and  she  knew  that  the  strong  bars  were  be 
tween  herself  and  the  outer  world. 

A  look  of  wonder  flitted  over  the  face  of  the  turnkey 
as  he  regarded  the  elegant  contour  of  Mrs.  Stocklaid 
and  saw  how  heavily  she  leaned  upon  the  man  at  her  side 
for  support.  Marie  thought  she  detected  in  the  face  of 
her  guide  a  twinkle  of  merriment  as  he  led  her  into  the 
damp,  foul  atmosphere  of  the  cold,  dark  city  prison  of 
San  Francisco.  To  their  right,  as  they  passed  in,  there 
was  a  long  row  of  cells.  Behind  these  there  cowered  a 
multitude  of  souls  which  had  been  sent  for  various  crimes 
by  the  hand  of  justice.  Men  from  all  stations  in  life, 
white,  black,  American  and  foreign  born,  wrere  herded 
together  in  the  same  pen,  awaiting  trial  for  the  various 


FALSELY  ACCUSED.  217 

crimes  that  they  had  committed.  Near  by,  with  only  a 
screen  to  separate  them,  was  a  quarter  of  a  hundred  of 
women  in  various  attitudes,  with  the  visible  mark  of  in 
temperance  written  upon  their  faces. 

One  mother  held  to  her  breast  a  sucking  child  as  she 
reclined  on  a  bench  in  drunken  stupor.  There,  right  in 
the  center  of  the  pen,  stretched  at  full  length,  were  half 
a  dozen  completely  overmastered  by  rum.  Crawling 
over  the  bodies,  around  and  under  the  stretchers  upon 
which  the  women  lay,  was  vermin  and  even  rats.* 

A  sickening  horror  was  stealing  over  Marie's  senses. 
She  \vas  about  to  turn  away,  when  something  familiar  in 
the  face  of  one  of  the  women  caused  her  to  pause  again. 
Yes,  sure  enough,  she  knew  her.  It  was  Polly  Hopkins, 
who  had  once  been  a  servant  in  her  father's  house.  Her 
dusky  face  had  at  one  time  in  her  life  looked  pure  and 
good.  It  now  looked  bloated  and  besotted  with  the  fires 
of  alcohol.  She  was  saying  to  her  drunken  associates: 
"Come  on!  Come  on!  I  am  able  to  fight  that  old 
Leviathan,  the  devil,  and  I  can  thrash  the  floor  with  the 
best  one  of  you!" 

All  at  once  she  became  conscious  that  there  was  a  vis 
itor  present  and  in  an  instant  she  became  as  docile  as  a 
lamb  and  stood  with  her  face  pressed  against  the  bars, 
while  the  tears  ran  down  like  rain  over  her  dusky  cheek. 

She  reached  out  her  hand,  and  taking  that  of  Airs. 
Stocklaid's,  pressed  it  to  her  rum-polluted  lips,  saying" 
as  she  did  so:  "Oh,  Miss  Marie,  won't  you  be  my  missis 
once  more?  I  wouldn't  be  here,  honey,  if  I  had  a  good 
missis." 

Strength  now  came  to  Mane's  limbs  and  a  wish  began 
to  burn  in  her  soul  that  it  might  be  in  her  power  to  save 

*A  fact  which  even  exists  to-day  in  the  prison  at  San  r>an- 
cisco. 


218  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

these  awful  wrecks  and  wretches  before  her.  Mastering 
herself,  she  said:  "Polly,  when  you  get  out  from  here 
and  are  free  from  drink  come  to  me  and  I  will  talk  to  you." 

"Oh,  Miss  Marie,  how  good  you  be!  But  it  will  be  a 
long  time  before  I  am  out  again,  but  I'll  remember  your 
word  and  come  some  day." 

Passing  on,  Marie  saw  a  host  of  boys  ranging  in  ages 
from  nine  to  fifteen  years.  They  were  smoking  cigar 
ettes  with  a  "don't  care  air"  about  them  that  resembled 
the  spirit  of  total  depravity  more  than  anything  else  she 
had  ever  met  before.  Oh  how  her  heart  ached  to  save 
those  boys !  She  thought  of  her  own  little  Earnie,  sitting 
out  in  the  carriage  with  Ruth,  and  what  she  would  suffer 
were  he  behind  these  bars. 

They  passed  on  from  cell  to  cell  and  she  saw  the  full 
ness  of  suffering  in  human  souls.  She  heard  the  ribald 
jests  and'  bacchanalian  songs  from  the  lips  of  those  yet 
under  the  influence  of  drink,  and  her  spirit  grew  fierce 
to  fight  the  giant,  rum,  which  could  so  debase  the  human 
soul  and  bring  it  low  as  this. 

Looking  up  into  the  face  of  the  officer  by  her  side,  she 
said:  'They  did  not  bring  Jeanetta  to  this  awful  place?" 

"Surely,  madam." 

"Then  take  me  to  her  at  once.  I  will  take  her  into 
the  free,  pure  atmosphere  of  home,  where  she  may  forget, 
if  possible,  these  awful  sounds." 

In  a  moment  she  stood  at  Jeanetta's  cell  at  the  left  of 
the  corridor  from  the  entrance.  Here  sat  Jeanetta  sob 
bing  as  though  her  heart  would  break.  The  door  swung 
back  and  Marie  went  in.  Taking  the  girl  she  said:  "Poor 
Jeanetta,  innocent  and  good!  I  am  sorry  that  I  mis 
judged  you.  Come  with  me." 

The  aggrieved  child,  glad  to  see  any  friend  at  this  mo 
ment,  buried  her  face  in  Mrs.  Stocklaid's  bosom  and  was 


FALSELY  ACCUSED. 


219 


comforted.  As  they  came  up  out  of  the  horrible  pit  into 
God's  free  air  of  heaven,  she  said:  "Oh,  Mrs.  Stock- 
laid,  that  awful  hell  of  which  Sister  Monica  has  taught 
us  can  not  be  more  dreadful  than  that  place  where  I  have 
been." 

Earnie  put  his  arms  around  "his  Nettie's"  neck  and 
laughed  for  joy  to  have  her  back  again.  He  said:  "Bad 
old  blue  coat!  We  don't  like  him,  do  we,  Nettie?" 


PEACEFUL    WATERS. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  RUM  FIEND. 

In  the  solitude  of  her  own  room  Marie  sat  and  pon 
dered.  This  was  a  heinous  thing  which  her  husband  had 
done  and  she  now  thought,  without  doubt,  that  all  the 
missing  articles  from  the  mansion  could  be  traced  to  him, 
as  her  jewels  had  been.  How  to  approach  him  she  knew 
not,  for  she  was  afraid  of  him ;  but  she  knew  this  thieving 
W7ork  must  be  stopped.  To  this  her  mind  was  made  up, 
and  she  prayed  that  that  blessed  spirit  which  electrified 
her  being  and  quickened  all  her  mental  powers  would 
teach  her  what  to  do. 

When  evening  came,  as  they  sat  down  to  dinner,  Marie 
poured  the  tea  and  then  began  to  regard  her  husband 
with  unusual  scrutiny.  How  he  had  changed  in  the  past 
five  years.  The  beautiful  curls  that  once  clustered  so 
beautifully  around  his  temples  were  now  unkempt  and 
streaked  with  gray.  His  finely  chiseled  features  were 
growing  rough  and  coarse;  his  eyes  that  had  sparkled 
with  mellow  luster  were  now  dim  and  bleared. 

Earnest  Stocklaid  of  to-day  bore  little  or  no  resemblance 
to  the  elegant,  noble  young  man  who  had  won  her  heart 
in  far-off  Germany.  The  gentle  wife  forgot  her  duty  as 
she  sat  gazing  upon  the  wreck  of  her  once  cherished  hope. 
She  knew  that  she,  too,  had  faded  and  she  was  wandering 
back  through  the  wreck  of  years  to  find,  if  she  could,  all 
that  she  had  missed.  She  saw  that  her  loss  was  an  irre 
trievable  one. 

At  length  she  was  startled  from  her  reverie  by  a  snarl 


222  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

from  the  object  of  her  thoughts,  who  said:  "What  are 
you  gazing  at  me  in  that  way  for?  What  have  I  done  to 
merit  your  displeasure?" 

Marie  came  back  to  herself,  and  while  a  crimson  glow 
mantled  her  cheek  and  brow,  she  replied:  "You  have 
done  enough,  Earnest,  to  merit  the  displeasure  of  all  good 
and  honorable  people.  You  have  put  yourself  on  a  level 
with  the  felon  and  deserve  at  this  moment  to  be  put  be 
hind  the  prison  bars." 

Affecting  the  direst  ignorance  of  her  meaning,  he  re 
peated:  "Why,  what  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  biting 
words  from  your  lips,  Marie?" 

And  if  the  wife  had  not  known  to  the  contrary,  she 
would  have  thought  the  poor  wretch  most  innocent  of  the 
charge  she  was  about  to  make. 

Jeanetta  was  standing  at  the  back  of  her  mistress'  chair. 
This  was  the  first  inkling  that  she  had  as  to  whom  had 
perpetrated  the  theft.  Her  astonishment  was  most  over 
whelming  as  she  listened  to  the  following  words:  "What 
have  you  done?  Sir,  you  have  stolen  and  bartered  my 
jewels.  You  have  robbed  the  mansion  of  its  silver  and 
many  valuable  articles.  You  have  squandered  my  for 
tune.  Ever  since  the  day  when  I  gave  you  my  hand  in 
marriage  you  have  been  working  to  bring  disgrace  upon 
yourself  and  family.  Your  face  is  bent  to  ruin,  and  unless 
you  turn  from  your  downward  course  a  few  years  more 
will  place  you  in  a  felon's  cell  and  the  disgrace  of  a  father's 
dishonored  life  will  rest  upon  his  son  as  he  comes  up  to 
manhood.  To-night  I  call  you  to  halt,  and  unless  you 
shape  your  conduct  differently  in  the  future,  you  and  I 
must  exist  in  a  separate  sphere,  for  I  have  now  suffered 
the  end  of  the  law  of  forbearance." 

To  say  that  he,  Earnest  Stocklaid,  flew  into  a  passion 
would  be  but  a  feeble  expression  of  his  demonstration. 


THE  RUM  FIEND.  223 

Such  horrible  oaths!  Such  reckless  hurling  of  missiles! 
Such  crashing  and  smashing  of  china  from  the  table  is 
only  the  work  of  a  mad  man  as  he  raged  about  the  room. 
The  fine  tissues  of  the  man's  brain,  so  long  permeated  by 
alcohol,  was  on  fire,  and  the  tension  of  reason,  now 
stretched  to  its  utmost,  gave  way,  and  Earnest  Stocklaid 
had  indeed  gone  mad. 

Jeanetta  had  taken  little  Earnie  and  fled  from  the  scene 
but  poor  Marie  lay  upon  the  floor,  having  been  knocked 
senseless  by  a  plate  which  he  had  hurled  at  her  head. 

The  gardener  and  Dan,  the  coachman,  rushed  in  at 
the  sound  of  confusion  and  quietly  took  the  mad  man 
from  the  house.  The  servants  lifted  Marie  tenderly  and 
laid  her  upon  the  bed.  A  physician  was  summoned. 
Upon  his  arrival  he  found  Earnie  screaming  at  the  top 
of  his  voice  and  shouting:  "My  poor  mamma  is  killed! 
My  poor  mamma!  Poor  mamma!" 

It  was  quite  an  hour  before  Marie  could  be  restored 
to  consciousness,  then  quiet  again  settled  down  upon  the 
family.  Long  and  earnestly  that  night  Marie  thought 
as  she  lay  upon  her  bed.  She  was  making  a  review  of 
her  life  up  to  this  period.  She  had  not  yet  rounded 
her  twenty-eighth  birthday,  but  somehow  time  had 
stretched  out  into  a  dreary  pile  of  years  as  she  lay  there 
contemplating  the  past  and  looking  at  the  future.  What 
horrible  years  hers  had  been!  Must  her  whole  life  be 
like  the  past?  For  a  time  a  deep  spirit  of  bitterness  crept 
into  her  soul.  She  felt  that  Fate,  ordered  by  the  hand 
of  God,  was  merciless,  and  she  was  blaming  her  Creator. 
At  last  she  began,  as  with  a  tracing  line,  to  travel  back 
over  the  past  decade  of  years.  One  after  another  she 
dwelt  upon  the  events  of  her  life  and  felt  self-righteous 
as  she  comforted  her  soul  and  told  herself  she  had  done 
the  best  she  could.  But  by  and  by  she  paused.  There 


224  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

she  had  been  in  far-off  Germany  reveling  over  the  wine 
cup,  closely  nestled  at  the  side  of  Earnest  Stocklaid,  as 
they  sat  long  at  the  dinner  table.  She  again  saw  Ruth 
standing  over  against  the  wall  with  a  pleading  look  in  her 
eyes,  asking  her  to  desist.  Once  more  she  felt  that  spirit 
of  abandonment  and  heard  her  own  voice  as  she  was  say 
ing  to  Earnest:  "A  young  man  that  must  be  obligated 
by  a  pledge  to  keep  from  taking  a  sup  of  wine  is  un 
worthy  the  consideration  of  any  gentle  woman's  notice." 
Heard  him  reply:  "Oh,  Miss  Earnestine,  give  it  to  me.  I 
can  not  bear  your  scorn."  And  then  her  own  jeweled  hand 
pressed  the  cup  to  his  lips.  Who  was  to  blame?  Earnest 
Stocklaid  had  broken  his  pledge  obligated  to  his  mother 
and  his  God,  and  had  fallen  by  her  own  hand.  She  saw 
it  all  now  more  forcibly  than  at  any  previous  time  in  her 
life,  and  she  wondered  why,  why  she  had  been  so  blind 
and  deaf  as  to  the  results  of  the  wine  cup. 

Why  was  she  blaming  God  for  her  fate?  Shame  cov 
ered  her  with  confusion.  She  arose  from  her  bed,  knelt 
down  by  its  side  and  prayed  for  pardon,  while  she 
acknowledged  to  her  God  that  her  fate  had  been  just 
what  she  had  made  it. 

There  on  bended  knee  she  thought  of  her  husband, 
a  rum  fiend,  abandoned  to  drink  and  crime,  and  accused 
herself  of  his  downfall.  She  thought  how  lost  he  was 
to  God,  and  she  prayed  the  avenging  spirit  to  have  mercy 
upon  his  soul. 

Where  was  Earnest  at  that  moment?  Had  his  reason 
forsaken  him?  W7as  it  a  temporary  freak  of  madness 
that  had  caused  him •  to  rage  as  he  had  done  that  night,  or 
was  it  permanent? 

"Oh,  God!"  she  prayed,  "save  my  husband  from  the 
awful  sins  of  his  life  and  give  him  back  to  me  as  pure  as 
he  was  that  day  before  I  tempted  him  to  drink!" 


THE  RUM  FIEND.  225 

Then  she  wondered  why  she  had  never  prayed  for  his 
conversion  before.  "God  is  merciful,"  she  said,  "and 
maybe  my  prayers  are  not  too  late  to  be  effectual  in  his 
case."  Creeping  back  into  bed,  she  hugged  her  boy  to 
her  bosom,  bathing  his  brown  curls  with  tears  until  break 
of  day. 

When  morning  dawned  Aunt  Langsford  came  and 
stood  by  her  bedside.  The  dear  old  lady's  face  was  red 
from  weeping.  She  bent  over  her  niece.  Her  own  arm, 
which  had  been  bruised  by  a  blow  from  Earnest  as  she 
had  come  between  the  two,  was  tied  up  in  a  sling.  She 
said :  "Poor  Marie !  I  have  been  thinking  of  you  all  night, 
and  I  want  to  tell  you,  dear,  that  I  am  sorry  I  ever  urged 
you  to  marry  Earnest  Stocklaid.  I  have  lived  to  see  that 
there  are  a  good  many  places  in  life  where  money  will  not 
carry  you  through." 

Marie  took  the  hand  of  her  aunt  and  thought  the  time 
auspicious  to  tell  her  that  her  fortune  was  well  nigh  spent. 
She  also  told  her  many  things  concerning  Earnest's 
profligate  ways  which  the  aunt  did  not  know,  and  was 
horrified  beyond  expression.  Ruth  heard  the  worst  and 
came  to  comfort  A  look  of  sadness  such  as  Marie  had 
not  seen  before  rested  upon  her  face  and  her  eyes  were 
dim  with  tears  as  she  bent  over  the  stricken  body  of  her 
friend.  At  length  she  asked:  "Marie,  are  you  able  to 
rise?  I  need  your  company  for  a  little  time." 

The  lady  raised  upon  her  elbow  and  looked  inquiringly 
into  Ruth's  face.  "What  is  it,  dear?  Is  anything  wrong 
with  Earnest?" 

"Yes,  Marie;  the  physician  has  summoned  you  to  his 
office.  Earnest  has  not  recovered  his  reason  and  he 
must  be  kept  in  close  confinement  for  a  time." 

A  sorrowful  look  flit  over  the  wife's  countenance  and 
she  arose  from  her  bed ;  but  she  did  not  weep.  The  foun- 


226  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

tain  of  her  tears  had  been  emptied  long  before  day.  She 
went  and  looked  into  the  mirror.  There  upon  her  pale 
white  brow  was  a  great  black  mark  that  had  been  almost 
her  death  blow.  She  covered  it  with  her  hand  and  asked 
Ruth  to  dress  her  hair.  Jeanetta  brought  some  toast  and 
a  cup  of  tea,  of  which  she  partook,  and  then  the  two  took 
their  seats  in  the  carriage  and  were  driven  to  the  new 
city  hall. 

They  went  direct  to  the  office  of  the  commissioner  for 
the  insane.  Then  they  waited  but  a  moment,  when  Ear 
nest  was  ushered  into  their  presence,  carefully  guarded 
by  two  strong  men. 

His  eyes  glared  like  those  of  an  enraged  tiger,  and  his 
wild,  impulsive  words,  spoken  with  vehemence,  testified 
that  his  madness  was  of  no  ordinary  character.  Marie 
burst  into  tears  and  went  directly  to  him.  With  a  wicked 
oath  he  attempted  to  spring  upon  her,  but  being  restrained 
by  the  guard,  gnashed  his  teeth,  while  the  white  foam  is 
sued  from  his  lips  in  awful,  awful  madness.  "Rum! 
Rum!"  he  cried.  "Bring  me  the  bowl  or  1  shall  go  mad!" 
The  wife  veiled  her  eyes  that  she  might  not  see  his  writh 
ing  and  torture:. 

The  doctor  wrote  the  certificate  and  the  officers  hur 
ried  him  away  to  the  asylum  at  Stockton. 

Poor,  suffering  humanity.  Rum  is  a  delusion  and  a 
snare. 

Who  is  trying  to  reduce  this  suffering?  Men,  the  fath 
ers  of  our  country?  No!  Else  long  ago  the  white- 
winged  ballot  would  have  made  us  free. 

Christians,  who  kneel  at  the  altar  and  pray  for  grace? 
Ah,  no!  not  they;  else  the  rum  fiend  would  long  ere  this 
have  run  his  race  Who  then  cares  for  the  sufferings  of 
wives  and  mothers  in  our  land?  Ah,  beloved,  it  is  the 


THE  RUM  FIEND. 


227 


feeble,  faithful  few,  whose  votes  and  prayers  and  tears  in 
truth  do  flow. 

God  hasten  the  day  when  the  weak  shall  be  strong  and  able 

to  stand, 
To  banish  the  rum  fiend  from  our  beautiful  land. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

HER  FORTUNE  SPENT. 

The  city  of  San  Francisco  was  ablaze  with  great  flaming 
posters.  Frances  E.  Willard,  the  renowned  president 
of  the  World's  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union, 
was  coming  to  the  Pacific  Coast  on  her  mission  of  love 
for  humanity.  As  Marie  Stocklaid  and  her  boon  compan 
ion,  Ruth  Mansfield,  drove  away  from  that  splendid  pile 
of  masonry,  the  new  city  hall,  beneath  the  roof  of  which 
so  many  good  and  evil  turns  are  done  for  the  people  of 
the  city,  Ruth's  face  was  made  to  shine  with  gladness  as 
she  read  the  welcome  announcement. 

Calling  her  friend's  attention  to  the  notice,  she  said: 
"You  must  see  her,  Marie,  that  splendid  woman;  there 
is  none  greater  on  earth  to-day.  She  will  do  you  good." 

Marie  repeated  her  words  and  looked  a  little  mystified. 
"None  greater  on  earth?  Why,  Ruth,  I  would  not  think 
of  saying  that  for  Queen  Victoria  of  England  even.  What 
has  this  woman  done  that  you  should  call  her  great?" 

Ruth  looked  Mrs.  Stocklaid  full  in  the  face,  for  she 
thought  her  to  be  jesting.  But  when  she  saw  honest  in 
quiry  in  her  eyes,  she  exclaimed:  "Have  you  not  heard 
of  Frances  Willard?  Why,  Marie,  what  a  small  world 
you  have  existed  in  not  to  be  familiar  with  that  household 
name.  Frances  Willard  is  president  of  the  grandest  army 
of  women  that  the  sun  of  heaven  ever  shone  upon;  an 
army  of  women  who  stand  with  battle-ax  in  hand,  striking 
blow  after  blow  at  the  very  root  of  the  liquor  traffic.  It 
is  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union." 


230  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Marie's  face  betokened  her  gladness  and  she  said :  "May 
my  eyes  behold  her  glorious  image  and  may  my  soul  catch 
the  spirit  of  her  zeal  as  she  pleads  the  cause  near  to  my 
heart!" 

The  day  arrived.  The  Metropolitan  Temple  was  re 
splendent  in  the  glory  of  its  light.  The  auditorium  was 
packed  to  overflowing  with  an  eager,  anxious  crowd,  who 
had  come  to  see  the  woman  that  was  turning  the  world 
upside  down  and  bringing  about  the  disruption  of  the 
organized  liquor  powers  of  America.  The  voices  of  that 
vast  multitude  made  the  air  vibrate  with  gladness  as 
everybody  united  in  singing  the  national  hymn,  "Ameri 
ca."  It  was  then  that  the  noble  Ruth  Mansfield,  in  com 
pany  with  Mrs.  Marie  Stocklaid,  came  down  the  aisle  and 
took  seats  in  the  front  of  the  platform.  Many  admiring 
glances  from  the  populace  were  cast  upon  her  as  she 
entered.  Ruth  Mansfield  was  better  known  to-day  than 
fifteen  years  ago,  when  she  mounted  the  marble  steps 
at  Palace  Earnestine  in  answer  to  an  advertisement  for 
waiting  maid. 

What  a  wonderful  evolution  there  had  been  in  her  life 
and  character  within  the  last  ten  years!  But  the  change 
was  not  more  noticeable  in  her  than  in  the  woman  who  sat 
by  her  side.  She,  Marie  Stocklaid,  had  come  to  hear  for 
the  first  time  the  code  of  principles  advocated  by  the 
world's  president  of  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance 
Union.  Frances  Willard  was  in  full  power,  and  her 
matchless  eloquence  held  her  audience  spellbound.  She 
made  many  to  feel,  when  she  began  to  unwind  her  ball 
of  white  ribbon  that  now  belts  the  globe,  binding  together 
the  motherhood  of  the  nations  of  the  world  into  one 
coalescent  whole,  that  they  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Heaven  in  her  portrayal  of  the  home.  As  she  revealed 
the  methods  of  the  work  and  made  her  plea  for  the 


HER  FORTUNE  SPENT.  231 

motherhood  of  San  Francisco  to  muster  into  line,  Marie's 
soul  caught  on  fire  and  she  said:  "Lord,  here  I  am; 
what  wouldst  Thou  have  me  to  do?" 

Immediately  after  the  close  of  the  address,  and  while 
the  choir  were  singing  the  national  anthem  of  the  W. 
C.  T.  LL,  'Tor  God  and  Home  and  Native  Land,"  a  host 
of  white-ribbon  women  arose  and  began  to  circulate  the 
muster  roll  to  increase  the  membership  of  their  local  so 
ciety.  Marie  was  first  to  write  her  name  in  clear,  bold 
characters,  and  said  as  she  did  so:  "I  am  ready  with  bat 
tle-ax  in  hand  to  work  for  the  overthrow  of  rum." 

On  the  morrow  the  sisterhood  were  to  assemble  at  the 
state  headquarters  for  conference  and  prayer  with  their 
national  president.  Marie's  soul  w7as  now  on  fire,  she 
longed  to  have  her  inspiration  ignite  with  other  souls. 
In  the  true  spirit  of  one  called  of  God  for  the  work,  she 
spent  her  morning  before  the  meeting  in  calling  upon  the 
Catholic  women  of  her  own  church  and  told  them  of  the 
glad  message  that  had  come  to  her  soul.  At  the  time  ap 
pointed  for  the  conference  the  spacious  parlors  at  head 
quarters  were  filled  to  overflowing  with  the  elite  women 
of  the  city,  who  had  come  together  to  sit  at  the  feet  of 
their  great  leader  in  temperance  work. 

When  Miss  Willard  asked  to  have  a  special  session  of 
prayer  with,  those  who  wished  to  consecrate  their  lives  and 
all  their  worldly  possessions  to  God  and  temperance  work, 
Marie  Stocklaid  was  the  first  to  arise  and  come  forward. 
Kneeling  there  with  the  hand  of  Frances  Willard  resting 
upon  her  head,  she  laid  her  all  upon  the  altar  for  God 
and  the  blessed  work  of  reform.  A  new  world  had  opened 
up  before  the  woman  so  grieved  and  tired  in  spirit.  She 
began  to  look  beyond  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  sunshine 
that  shone  in  the  distance  between  the  rifted  clouds.  But 
when  she  thought  of  her  husband,  chained  in  a  maniac's 


232  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

cell  in  the  asylum  at  Stockton,  and  meditated  upon  the 
possible  helplessness  of  the  case,  a  spirit  of  sadness  crept 
over  her  that  could  not  be  dispelled.  Not  even  Ruth's 
smile  nor  the  new-found  work  could  make  her  forget  nor 
keep  the  canker  worm  from  gnawing  at  her  heart.  Still 
she  hoped  and  bravely  pressed  forward,  embracing  each 
day's  duty  as  it  came. 

The  time  was  now  at  hand  when  the  mortgage  on  the 
Palace  Earnestine  had. become  due  and  was  about  to  be 
foreclosed.  Creditors  clamored  for  their  due.  The  dear 
woman  was  distracted  as  she  thought  of  her  strait  and 
what  the  result  of  a  final  settlement  would  mean  to  her. 
She  saw  that  her  home  was  to  be  swept  from  under  her 
and  that  she  must  go  down  and  out  into  the  world,  a 
world  that  was  laughing  and  rejoicing  over  her  downfall. 
The  day  came  for  the  sale  and  her  business  agent  waited 
upon  her  for  advice.  He  wished  to  know  her  will  if  any 
thing  could  be  saved  from  the  wreck.  She  paused  a  mo 
ment  with  downcast  eyes  and  thought.  At  length  she 
said :  "Let  it  all  go  if  need  be,  but  save  the  Ranch  Earn 
estine.  That  was  my  mother's  dying  bequest  to  me  and 
I  can  not  part  with  it  unless  I  must;  it  will  be  all  I  will  have 
with  which  to  educate  my  boy."  There  was  a  merry  twinkle 
in  the  eye  of  Jack  Halstead  as  he  listened  to  her  advice  and 
thought  what  a  happy  surprise  he  held  in  store  for  her 
if  things  worked  as  he  had  planned. 

Evening  came  at  last.  Marie  had  been  shut  up  in  her 
room  all  day,  excluding  from  her  presence  her  nearest 
and  dearest  friends — not  even  Ruth  had  been  permitted  to 
see  her  face.  But  at  length,  after  a  long  season  of  prayer, 
she  came  forth  and  a  look  of  triumph  rested  upon  her 
countenance  as  she  took  her  accustomed  place  at  the 
table  to  preside  over  the  evening  meal.  Ruth  had  come 
to  spend  a  week  with  her  with  the  thought  that  perhaps 


HER  FORTUNE  SPENT.  235 

her  presence  might  be  some  solace  to  her  aching  heart 
in  this  distressing*  hour  when  her  home  was  slipping  away. 

The  family  had  repaired  to  the  drawing  room  to  enjoy 
this  their  last  evening  together  in  the  mansion,  when  the 
card  of  Jack  Halstead  was  sent  up  to  Marie. 

Taking  it  in  her  hand,  an  agreeable  look  flitted  over  her 
face  and  she  said  to  Jeanetta:  "Show  him  into  the  room." 
Then  turning  to  Ruth,  she  continued:  "We  will  now 
know  the  worst  and  the  ordeal  wrill  soon  be  past." 

The  gentleman  came  in  with  the  stride  of  a  cavalier. 
He  took  the  hand  of  Mrs.  Stocklaid  in  his  own  powerful 
grip  and  said:  "I  hope  you  will  pardon  this  late  hour  for 
business,  madam,  but  I  could  not  leave  you  in  doubt 
until  another  day." 

Then  taking  from  his  pocket  a  long  written  document, 
he  said:  "Here  is  the  bill  of  sale  with  the  debit  and  credit, 
the  final  and  entire  settlement  of  the  whole  business." 

Marie's  eyes  ran  down  along  the  line  and  a  puzzled 
look  overspread  her  countenance  as  she  said:  "I  don't 
see  anything  about  the  Ranch  Earnestine,  Mr.  Halstead." 

After  a  while  and  a  good  deal  of  fumbling  in  his  pocket, 
the  mischievous  fellow  brought  out  another  paper,  which 
she  eagerly  scanned.  This  showed  that  the  place  so  dear 
to  her  was  free  from  debt.  He  then  and  there  placed  in 
her  hands  the  net  proceeds  of  the  last  year's  crop.  Marie's 
hand  trembled  and  the  paper  shook  so  she  could  not  read. 
At  last  she  handed  it  back  to  him  and  asked:  "Won't 
you  read  it  for  me,  Mr.  Halstead?  I  am  shaky  to-night 
and  strangely  perplexed." 

Taking  the  paper,  he  complied  with  her  request.  Then 
at  the  conclusion  she  asked:  "How  did  you  save  it, 
Jack?" 

How  familiar  her  voice  sounded  to  him!  Just  as  it 
had  done  when  they  were  playfellows  together!  The 


234  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

man's  eyes  moistened  and  he  replied:  "I  have  been 
guarding  it,  Marie,  ever  since  that  day  when  you  and  a 
pack  of  women  went  out  and  did  away  with  the  wine 
business.  A  lucky  hit  it  was,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  for  your 
raisins  and  grape  food  and  other  fruits  will  bring  you, 
in  a  little  time,  a  hundred  per  cent,  more  than  the  old  wine 
product.  Already  you  are  even." 

Then  he  told  her  how  oft  and  repeatedly  Earnest  had 
tried  to  encumber  the  land,  even  as  he  had  done  with  other 
property,  but  by  much  cunning  and  ingenuity  he  had 
saved  it  free  from  debt  until  this  time.  With  much  kind  ap 
preciation  of  her  agent's  loyalty  to  her  interests,  she  spoke 
her  approval  and  thanked  him  in  tne  name  of  her  little 
son,  who  was  at  that  moment  hanging  upon  the  man's 
knees.  Jack  Halstead  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  said: 
"To  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  that  that  crowd  of  female  anarchists  who 
went  out  that  day,  led  on  by  the  brave  daughter  of  Judge 
Earnestine,  and  emptied  fifty  thousand  dollars  into  the 
sea  set  me  to  thinking. 

"Finding  your  motive  power  to  be  a  righteous  one,  I 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  watch  the  product  of  the 
new  crop  and  see  how  it  compared  in  dollars  and  cents 
with  the  old;  and  I  want  to  add  that  you  have  made 
a  thorough  convert  of  me  to  your  principles  of  temper 
ance.  Believe  me,  that  when  an  opportunity  presents  it 
self,  Jack  Halstead  means  to  cast  his  ballot  on  the  side 
of  temperance  reform." 

Turning  to  Ruth,  he  continued:  "But  I  suppose  Miss 
Mansfield  would  have  me  vote  the  labor  ticket;  eh,  Miss 
Ruth,  are  you  as  cranky  as  ever  upon  that  subject?" 

"Just  as  radical,  Mr.  Halstead,  for  I  believe  that  it  will 
yet  be  the  ballots  in  the  hands  of  the  working  men  and 
women  that  will  settle  the  temperance  question." 


HER  FORTUNE  SPENT.  23? 

Halstead's  face  assumed  an  amused  expression  as  he 
mockingly  repeated:  " Women  vote!  Ha!  ha!  Miss 
Mansfield,  that  is  more  fanatical  than  ever!"  And  then  in 
a  serious  strain,  he  continued:  "Don't  be  sanguine, 
young  lady.  Why,  the  saloons  of  this  country  are  sup 
ported  by  the  laboring  men.  Think  you  that  blind  men 
will  ever  vote  like  men  who  see?" 

"Capital  is  also  supported  by  Labor,"  replied  Ruth. 
"But  for  all  that,  these  brave  men  to  whom  we  owe  the 
progress  of  our  country  are  counting  their  ballots  against 
monopoly;  and  not  only  that,  but  they  are  laboring  to 
gether,  a  noble  brotherhood,  to  put  the  ballot  in  the  hand 
of  woman,  and  when  that  day  shall  come  we  will  show 
y®u  what  we  shall  do  with  the  saloon." 

"Ah,  well,"  said  Jack,  "you  women  folk  always  will 
have  the  last  word."  Then  making  a  grimace  at  her,  ex 
pressive  of  sour  grapes,  he  continued:  "And  so  you, 
Ruth,  have  become  the  right-hand  supporter  of  Susan  B. 
Anthony,  have  you?" 

"Just  so,  Mr.  Halstead,"  was  her  reply.  "As  old  pioneers 
pass  on,  we  younger  and  stronger  women  will  fall  into 
line  and  press  on  in  the  pathway  which  they  have  trod. 
Susan  B.  has  fought  and  never  yet  cast  a  ballot;  but  I, 
Jack  Halstead,  shall  cast  the  ballot  and  fight  too — hotter 
and  fiercer  battles  than  those  who  have  fought  before  me." 

"What  a  pity,  Miss  Mansfield,  that  the  Lord  did  not 
drop  you  down  in  male  attire  instead  of  making  you  to 
wear  petticoats!  Thunder  and  blazes!  What  a  general 
you  would  have  made!" 

"Don't  waste  pity  on  me,  sir,  for  I  shall  yet  stand  at  the 
head  of  an  army  grander  and  of  a  more  complex  nature 
than  any  men  have  ever  led.  An  army  whose  swords 
shall  be  words  and  whose  bullets  will  be  ballots  cast  by 


236  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

the  hand  of  women — and  working  women  at  that!  Yes, 
sir!  for  woman's  power  will  some  day  be  felt  in  politics." 

"May  the  Lord  deliver  us  from  that  day,"  replied  the 
man.  "For  I  would  not  like  to  see  my  mother  and  sisters 
go  with  me  to  the  polls  to  vote." 

Ruth  smiled  pitifully  back  at  him  and  replied:  "Oh,  in 
that  time,  Mr.  Halstead,  when  woman  has  gained  the  right 
of  suffrage — ay,  when  women  have  learned  the  power 
of  the  ballot  (and  there  was  something  of  sarcasm  in  her 
voice)  we  shall  compel  men  to  be  cleaner  and  purer  than 
they  are  to-day;  then  your  sister  and  mother  will  be  just 
as  safe  to  go  to  the  ballot  box  with  you  as  you  now  are 
to  walk  to  church  with  them  or  to  spend  your  evenings 
in  company  with  such  strong-minded  women  as  we.  Ah ! 
believe  me,  sir,  in  that  time  you  will  be  just  as  warmly  con 
verted  to  woman's  suffrage  as  you  now  are  to  the  temper 
ance  reform." 

Halstead's  face  grew  crimson  at  the  mock  insinuation, 
but  not  willing  to  concede  the  point,  continued  the  dis 
cussion.  "But,  I  say,  who  will  take  care  of  the  children 
when  mothers  spend  their  time  running  around  the  streets 
talking  politics  to  men  and  going  to  the  ballot  box?  I 
suppose  husbands  will  have  to  stay  by  the  cradle  side 
then?" 

"Oh,  Mr.  Halstead,  bring  a  new  theory.  That  absurdity 
has  long  ago  been  exploded!  Why,  sir,  women  have  a 
more  systematic  way  of  doing  things  than  you  men,  and 
we  shall  not  have  to  go  about  the  streets  with  arguments 
to  convert  the  polluted  manhood  or  to  buy  their  ballots, 
for  we  are  already  united  upon  the  great  issues  of  the  day. 
And  so  far  as  taking  care  of  the  children  is  concerned,  I 
presume  they  will  fare  quite  as  well  as  they  now  do  since 
mothers  have  had  to  become  the  breadwinners  for  their 


HER  FORTUNE  SPENT.  237 

children  and  drunken  husbands.  Why,  sir,  only  a  few 
weeks  ago,  Marie  and  I  spent  nearly  a  whole  day  looking 
up  the  misdeeds  of  one  poor  inebriate  husband;  and  I 
assure  you,  sir,  it  would  not  have  taken  a  quarter  of  that 
time  to  have  cast  our  ballot  against  the  saloon  and  for  the 
protection  of  humanity." 

"Well,"  said  Jack  Halstead,  as  he  arose  to  go,  "when 
the  time  shall  come  that  woman  has  the  ballot,  my  heart 
will  be  open  to  conviction.  But  believe  me,  Miss  Mans 
field,  your  head  will  be  crowned  with  age  long  before  that 
day,  you  may  depend/' 

Ruth's  incredulous  smile  as  he  bowed  himself  out  gave 
evidence  of  her  unshaken  faith  in  the  political  develop 
ment  of  woman,  and  she  said  to  Marie  as  soon  as  the  door 
had  closed  behind  him: 

"The  day  of  woman's  advancement  is  nearer  at  hand 
than  we  think  and  I,  for  one,  am  looking  for  a  higher 
civilization  for  our  sex  in  the  next  few  years.  When  the 
ballot  is  placed  in  the  hand  of  woman,  our  national  diffi 
culties  will  soon  be  settled.  The  church  and  state  stand 
divided,  and  the  next  thing  to  religion  in  politics  is  the 
ballot  in  the  hands  of  the  wives  and  mothers  of  the 
country." 

"You  say  wives  and  mothers,  Ruth;  what  would  you 
do  with  the  unmarried  women?  Would  you  leave  yourself 
out  of  the  question?"  asked  Marie.  Ruth  smiled  as  she 
answered:  "Oh,  no,  I  count  myself  on  the  side  of  the  wife 
and  motherhood  of  America,  for  I  some  day  hope  to  fill 
both  the  honored  spheres." 

"Well,  then,"  she  replied,  "you  had  better  be  about  it. 
The  truth  is,  Ruth,  you  are  such  a  matter-of-fact  girl  that 
a  man  would  fear  to  ask  your  hand  in  marriage  lest  he 
be  rejected." 

"Fear  to'  ask  my  hand  in  marriage?"  repeated  Ruth 


238  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

triumphantly.  Why,  Marie,  you  are  paying  me  greater 
compliment  than  you  think.  Indeed,  that  above  all  things 
is  the  very  thought  which  I  wish  to  impress  upon  the  mind 
and  conscience  of  men.  When  women  will  learn  the  secret 
of  self-protection  from  the  rougher  sex,  and  by  a  spirit  of 
womanliness  buffet  their  advances,  then  we  shall  not  have 
so  many  mismated  people  and  unhappy  homes  in  the 
world.  And  the  man  that  is  fortunate  enough  to  marry 
Ruth  Mansfield  will  be  the  one  that  is  willing  to  wait 
until  I  am  ready  to  ask  his  hand  in  marriage." 

Marie  arose  and  looked  down  into  Ruth's  mellow,  dark 
eyes  to  see  whether  she  were  in  earnest  or  jesting. 

"Oh,"  said  she,  "I  am  in  honor  true  and  am  willing  to 
repeat  the  assertion  if  you  do  not  understand." 

Marie  took  the  girl's  hand  in  her  own  and  exclaimed: 
"Good  gracious,  Ruth!  How  you  do  startle  the  world 
with  your  new  departures.  What  will  that  day  bring  forth 
when  woman  shall  ask  the  plighted  troth  of  man?" 

Not  waiting  for  Marie  to  finish  her  remarks,  Ruth  re 
plied  :  "That  day,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  will  bring  higher  civili 
zation  to  mankind.  When  woman  can  select  from  among 
men,  the  father  of  her  children,,  even  as  man  now  does 
from  among  women,  we  shall  have  better  and  holier 
people  in  the  world;  for  woman  with  her  perfect  moral 
character  and  intuitiveness,  woman  with  her  clear  insight 
into  the  nature  and  propensities  of  men,  will  inevitably 
seek  a  union  from  the  standard'  of  her  own  high  and  noble 
character.  I  do  not  believe  as  a  rule  that  a  man  has  any 
God-ordained  right  to  ask  a  woman's  hand  in  marriage. 
But  whether  he  has  or  not,  I  believe  that  the  time  has 
come  in  the  world's  history  when  a  change  from  the  old- 
time  custom  would  work  for  the  betterment  and  spiritual 
uplifting  of  all  civilized  society,  even  as  it  has  for  the  physi 
cal  culture  of  the  savage.  I  repeat  it,  Marie,  the  time  has 


HER  FORTUNE  SPENT.  239 

come  when  society  should  permit  woman  to  make  her 
own  choice  of  a  husband  and  not  sit  down  and  wait  for 
Tom,  Dick  or  Harry  to  come  and  ask  her  hand  in  mar 
riage.  I  feel  gratified  to  know  that  my  conduct  has  been 
so  correctly  ordered  toward  men  that  one  would  fear  to 
ask  me  for  the  bestowal  of  myself." 

Marie  kissed  the  lips  and  brow  of  the  beautiful  woman 
whose  deep  and  earnest  thoughts  and  deeds  were,  in  a 
measure  revolutionizing  society  in  the  world  in  which 
she  lived  and  bringing  to  pass  a  better  and  higher  civiliza 
tion  for  women;  and  she  said:  "Come,  dear  Ruth,  I  am 
waiting  to  hear  your  congratulations.  God  has  been 
better  to  me  than  my  fears  and  I  am  not  entirely  penniless 
after  all." 

Ruth  arose  from  her  seat  and  very  tenderly  pressed 
the  hand  of  the  gentle  woman  and  expressed  her  delight 
that  her  beautiful  villa,  the  Ranch  Earnestine,  had  been 
left  intact  and  free  from  debt.  Then  she  gently  drew  her 
to  a  seat  and  said:  "My  dear  Marie,  my  heart  has  gone 
out  to  you  in  this  sore  trial  through  which  you  have  been 
passing,  and  be  assured  of  my  warmest  sympathy.  Me- 
thinks  I  can  see  the  hand  of  God  directing  your  earthly 
affairs  for  your  own  best  good.  In  many  ways  you  have 
a  noble  soul,  but  God  has  seen  in  you  a  will  that  could 
neither  bend  nor  break,  and  in  order  that  your  spirit  might 
be  softened  and  a  higher  and  nobler  love  for  humanity 
come  into  your  heart,  you  have  had  to  pass  through  this 
fiery  furnace  of  affliction.  So  now,  my  dear,  as  you  turn 
a  new  page  in  your  life's  book,  let  it  be  written  thereon 
that  from  henceforth  Marie  Stocklaid's  life  shall  be  de 
voted  to  the  betterment  of  humanity  instead  of  to  riches. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FROM  MANSION  TO  COTTAGE. 

The  family  had  withdrawn  and  the  two  women  were 
left  alone.  Marie  brought  the  hassock  and  seated  her 
self  at  Ruth's  knee,  then  looking  up  with  the  trustfulness 
of  a  child  into  her  mild,  dark  eyes,  she  said:  "Dear  Ruth, 
when  to-morrow's  sun  shall  shine  I  must  arise  and  take 
my  departure  from  this  place,  which  has  been  my  home 
ever  since  the  day  I  was  born.  Every  inch  of  the  dear 
old  house,  from  cellar  to  dome,  is  fraught  with  pleasant 
memories,  and  is  sacred  as  it  can  be.  The  very  room  in 
which  I  shall  sleep  to-night  is  the  place  where  I  was  born. 
From  that  room  my  mother's  spirit  took  its  flight  and 
winged  its  way  to  another  world.  In  that  room  my 
precious  boy  first  opened  his  eyes  to  see  the  light  of 
day.  There  I  have  wept  my  bitterest  tears  and  known 
my  sweetest  joys.  And  now,  no  matter  what  my  regret 
may  be,  I  must  give  it  up  and  go  away,  leaving  it  all  to 
strangers.  But,  Ruth,  don't  weep,  for  to-day  in  the  quiet 
of  my  room  I  knelt  at  the  altar  and  laid  my  burden  down 
at  the  foot  of  the  cross  and  to-morrow  I  will  go  down 
and  out  and  look  upon  it  no  more.  Our  family  portraits 
are  all  that  I  have  saved  from  the  wreck;  these  are  all 
I  can  take  of  the  many  beautiful  things  that  are  here. 

"You  must  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do.  I  can  not  go  to  the 
Ranch  Earnestine,  for  I  would  not  be  happy  there.  How 
to  find  a  place  in  all  this  great  city  of  houses  where  I  can 
plan  another  home  and  feel  the  same  sense  of  freedom 
and  security  that  I  have  felt  here  in  my  own  palace  1  know 
not." 


242  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Ruth  looked  tenderly  upon  the  woman,  for  memory 
came  rushing  back  to  remind  her  of  another  time,  so 
many  years  ago,  on  another  occasion,  when  she  herself 
and  her  beloved  mother  had  sat  in  council  and  had  made 
a  list  of  the  things  that  had  grown  dear  to  them,  even  as 
Marie  now  was  doing,  and  then  each  had  asked  of  the 
other,  "What  of  the  morrow?" 

She  wound  her  arms  affectionately  around  the  delicate 
creature,  whose  head  was  resting  upon  her  knee,  and 
said:  "Trust  it  all  to  me,  dear  heart.  God's  holy  spirit 
will  lead  me  and  I  will  find  you  a  place  somewhere  where 
you  can  be  happy." 

Bidding  her  an  affectionate  good-night,  she  departed, 
saying  as  she  waited  at  the  door:  "I  will  come  for  you 
to-morrow  at  eleven,  Marie.  Have  everything  in  readi 
ness  at  that  time  to  go  with  me." 

Ruth  had  been  anticipating  this  very  event,  and  all  day 
long  had  been  busily  engaged  in  searching  for  a  furnished 
cottage  such  as  would  be  within  the  means  of  Marie  and 
at  the  same  time  make  for  herself  and  family  a  pleasant 
home.  She  wended  her  way  back  to  her  own  comfortable 
lodgings  and  repeated  the  words  which  she  had  spoken 
in  the  by-gone  days:  "Nota  bene!  I  shall  some  day  be 
called  upon  to  lend  a  hand  to  this  proud  piece  of  hu 
manity." 

Even  sooner  than  she  thought  her  prophecy  had  come 
true.  She  meditated  upon  God's  hasty  fulfillment  of  all 
things  in  these  last  days,  and  wondered  as  she  thought 
on  what  part  she  was  to  take  in  the  general  round  up  be 
tween  Capital  and  Labor. 

Of  late  she  had  been  noting  the  clans  and  watching  the 
various  coalescent  bodies  as  political  lines  were  tighten 
ing  and  binding  them  more  closely  together.  Apparent 
ly  they  were  strengthening  their  lines  and  getting  ready 


FROM  MANSION  TO  COTTAGE.  243 

for  a  final  action.  One  thing  she  greatly  feared  for  the 
Pacific  Coast  was  the  cosmopolitan  population  and  the 
customs  brought  in  from  other  lands.  Soon  she  felt  there 
would  be  a  struggle  between  the  two  great  powers. 
Labor  and  Capital  would  try  their  strength  together. 
What  the  result  would  be  she  could  not  tell. 

If  the  matter  would  be  left  entirely  to  the  Americans 
she  felt  sure  an  amicable  adjustment  of  things  could 
easily  be  accomplished,  but  the  grumbling  of  that  dark 
spirit  of  anarchy  that  one  could  hear  as  they  put  their  ear 
to  the  ground,  which  had  flowed  in  from  other  countries, 
held  a  threatening  hand  over  society,  and  she  feared  the 
result  of  an  uprising  if  it  should  come.  But  whatever 
was  to  be,  Ruth  believed  that  God  was  with  His  people 
and  she  stood  ready  at  an  hour's  notice  to  summon  to 
gether  an  army  of  women,  such  as  had  never  appeared  in 
public  demonstration  in  any  city  of  the  world.  Her  five 
years  of  quiet  working  had  not  been  in  vain.  To-day  as 
she  was  making  a  resume  of  all  her  public  efforts,  she 
smiled  when  she  thought  how  great  her  achievements 
had  been. 

With  the  diligence  of  an  enthusiast  she  had  been 
banding  the  wage-earning  women  together  and  getting 
ready  for  the  struggle  that  she  saw  must  inevitably  come 
before  a  proper  adjustment  of  the  affairs  of  the  two  con 
tending  parties  could  be  made.  Women  from  all  stations 
in  society  were  interested;  every  trade  in  the  various 
lines  of  woman's  activity  was  identified  with  the  move 
ment,  from  the  professional  woman  down  to  the  house 
maid  and  the  woman  who  worked  upon  the  street.  All 
were  interested  in  the  cause  of  Labor,  and  in  general  con 
gress  they  had  often  taken  counsel  together.  Wromen 
who  loved  their  homes  and  were  loyal  to  their  country  and 
unto  their  God;  women  who  were  just  as  enthusiastic 


244  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

as  she,  and  just  as  rabid  in  their  denunciation  of  aristo 
cratic  rule;  women  who  were  just  as  anxious  to  bring 
about  the  delaceration  of  the  power  of  the  monopolists 
who  are  grinding  the  face  of  the  poor  as  she  could  possi 
bly  be.  But  what  their  future  line  of  action,  she  could 
not  yet  see  as  clearly  as  she  wished.  With  firm  faith  in 
God,  who  had  ever  been  the  firm  friend  of  the  people,  she 
moved  forward,  believing  that  His  omnipotent  hand 
would  still  lead  the  righteous  hosts.  She  went  on  from 
day  to  day  doing  her  utmost  to  breathe  her  burning  spirit 
of  enthusiasm  into  the  heart  of  the  womanly  hosts  which 
she  was  called  to  lead. 

Rising  with  the  sun  on  the  morning  following  her  con 
ference  with  the  mistress  of  Palace  Earnestine,  she  went 
her  way  in  search  of  a  little  snuggery  in  which  her  friend, 
so  tempest  tossed  and  tried  in  the  furnace  of  affliction, 
could  hide  from  the  world  and  be  at  peace. 

Having  been  successful  in  her  search,  at  exactly  the 
appointed  time,  she  stood  on  the  threshold  of  the  Palace 
Earnestine.  She  embraced  Marie,  who  stood  in  bonnet 
and  gloves  ready  to  take  her  departure.  As  her  trunks 
and  boxes  were  being  loaded  upon  the  wagon,  the  new 
mistress  of  the  mansion  was  coming  in  with  her  personal 
effects.  The  proud  and  haughty  stare  with  which  she 
regarded  Marie  was  the  exact  counterpart  of  Marie's  own 
haughty  pride  a  few  years  before.  For  the  first  time  in 
her  life  Marie  Stocklaid  felt  her  spirit  cringe  under  the 
domination  of  the  power  of  an  aristocrat.  Taking  her 
seat  in  the  carriage,  she  brushed  away  an  unbidden  tear, 
and  as  she  saw  that  Ruth  had  divined  its  source,  she  said : 
"The  hateful  creature!  she  at  least  might  have  waited 
until  I  was  out  of  the  house." 

Ruth  gave  the  order  and  the  carriage  rolled  down  from 
Nob  Hill,  freighted  with  its  full  complement  of  mourn- 


FROM   MANSION   TO  COTTAGE.  245 

ers.  It  wended  its  way  out  toward  the  Mission,  where 
she  had  taken  a  sunny  little  cottage,  already  fitted  for 
happiness  and  home.  As  they  drew  up  before  the  place 
Marie  gave  a  sigh  of  relief,  for  she  noted  its  genteel  ap 
pearance,  which  looked  inviting  to  her  tired  soul.  En 
tering,  she  found  a  cozy  fire  burning  in  the  grate  and  an 
easy  rocker  which  invited  her  to  repose.  Turning  to 
Ruth,  she  gave  her  a  tender  embrace,  saying  as  she  did 
so:  "You  precious  friend  in  need!  What  a  wonderful 
woman  you  are!  Who  would  have  thought  that  all  this 
brightness  could  have  been  in  waiting  for  me?" 

Wiping  the  tears  which  flowed  in  gratitude  she,  mid 
smiles  and  tears,  continued:  "Oh,  I  shall  'be  a  happy 
weanling  by  and  by  and  then  it  will  not  seem  so  hard  to 
be  poor." 

"None  are  so  rich,"  replied  Ruth,  "as  those  who  abound 
in  Christ.  He  who  is  cognizant  of  even  a  feather  that 
falls  from  the  raven's  wing  will  care  for  thee." 

Bringing  her  chair,  she  seated  herself  in  the  same  com 
fortable,  homelike  way  that  she  had  hitherto  done,  and 
continued:  "There  is  much  real  happiness  in  poverty, 
Marie  dear,  and  if  you  will  pause  to  think  now  that  'the 
Son  of  Man  had  not  where  to  lay  His  head'  your  lot  will 
not  seem  so  hard  after  all." 


INTERIOR  OF  RUTH'S  HOME. 


CHAPTER  XXV, 

DUPLICATING   THE    LABOR   DEPARTMENT. 

If  Marie  Stocklaid  could  have  foreseen  the  natural 
gravitation  of  things  that  day  when  she  stood  before  the 
woman's  cell  down  in  the  city  prison  saying  to  Polly  Hop 
kins:  "When  you  get  out  from  here  come  to  me  and  I 
will  talk  to  you,"  she  would  have  been  more  chary  of 
her  words  and  weighed  more  carefully  the  meaning  of 
a  visit  from  that  black  siren  of  a  hundred  midnight  revels. 
She  had  been  only  three  days  ensconced  in  her  cottage 
home  when  she  was  one  morning  surprised  to  see  the 
besotted  visage  of  the  poor  fallen  and  abandoned  Polly 
peering  in  at  her  as  she  sat  reclining  in  an  easy  chair, 
partially  hidden  behind  the  lace  curtains  of  her  bay  win 
dow.  With  a  broad  grin  upon  her  face,  revealing  two 
rows  of  pearly  teeth,  the  woman  opened  the  gate  and 
came  up  the  walk  with  the  air  of  assurance  which  be 
tokened  self-possession  at  least. 

Without  ringing,  she  opened  the  door  and  ushered  her 
self  right  into  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  saying  as 
she  did  so:  "Pardon  my  abruptness,  Mrs.  Stocklaid.  I 
didn't  want  to  trouble  you  to  let  me  in."  Then  helping 
herself  to  a  seat,  she  continued:  "I  have  found  you  at 
last,  my  noble  misses.  I  am  so  glad  to  come  and  have 
that  talk  with  you.  Wasn't  you  good  though  to  ask 
me,  a  poor  old  drunkard,  to  come  to  your  home?  And 
you  did  it,  too,  just  as  though  I  had  been  a  decent 
woman." 

For  a  moment  Marie  was  in  terror,  for  as  she  looked 


248  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

into  the  wild  eyes  of  the  poor  creature,  whose  hair  stood 
out  about  her  head  in  a  woolly  manner,  peculiar  to  the 
unkempt  locks  of  the  African  race,  she  almost  feared  that 
she  was  insane. 

She  had  never  before  been  brought  into  such  close  con 
tact  with  a  woman  under  the  influence  of  drink.  But  since 
Polly  had  come  at  her  own  instigation,  she  decided  by 
the  grace  which  Christ  gave  her,  to  make  the  meeting 
one  which  would  tell  for  good  in  the  counsel  she  would 
give.  Arising,  she  came  and  took  a  seat  in  front  of  the 
poor  wreck  of  former  years  and  said :  "Polly,  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you,  but  you  will  remember  that  I  said  you 
must  not  come  until  you  were  free  from  drink." 

"Bless  ye,  Miss  Marie,"  replied  the  woman,  "I  haven't 
took  a  drop  since  yesterday.  Have  been  savin'  up  to 
come  and  see  you  and  I  wanted  to  come  sober.  How 
good  it  would  seem,  honey,  if  I  could  only  be  as  pure  once 
more  as  I  was  when  you  were  a  little  girl !"  Wiping  away 
the  tears  that  ran  down  her  dusky  cheek,  she  continued: 
"But  it  was  yer  father,  Miss  Marie,  Judge  Earnestine,  that 
gave  me  the  first  drink  of  wine  I  ever  took.  It  was  his 
fiftieth  birthday,  honey,  when  he  called  us  servants 
all  in  to  drink  to  his  health.  And  when  I  refused  because 
I  was  a  teetotaler,  he  laughed  and  told  me  that  if  I  did 
not  drink  and  wish  him  to  be  a  hundred  he  would  dis 
charge  me.  And  so,  Miss  Marie,  thinking  to  please  him, 
I  drank  to  the  old  judge's  health.  Poor  fellow!  He  was 
well  set  up  that  day.  Ah,  well,  where's  the  use  to  talk 
about  it?  He's  dead  now  and  poor  old  Poll  is  an  aban 
doned  drunkard  with  no  one  to  care  for  her.  Why,  even 
my  black  Bess — that  girl  I  would  have  died  for — even  she 
has  turned  me  out  o'  doors  because  I'm  reckless  and 
nobody.  But  it  was  good  in  ye,  Miss  Marie,  to  let  me 
come  and  talk  to  ye,  and  I  think  if  ye  was  my  misses  once 


DUPLICATING  THE  LABOR  DEPARTMENT.  249 

more  I  would  not  want  to  drink."  Grasping  the  hand  of 
Mrs.  Stocklaid,  the  woman  pressed  it  to  her  polluted 
lips,  while  tears  ran  down  her  cheek  like  rain  and  she 
plead:  "Oh,  Miss  Marie,  won't  ye  be  my  misses  once 
more?  Oh,  do  let  me  come  where  ye  can  keep  me  from 
sin?"  And  then  like  one  in  delirium,  her  mind  wan 
dered  and  she  laughed  a  coarse  laugh  and  exclaimed: 
"Wouldn't  I  like  those  old  days  once  more  that  I  used 
to  enjoy  at  the  Palace  Earnestine  before  I  felJ  a  victim  to 
rum!" 

She  then  broke  into  one  of  her  old  plantation  songs  of 
the  happy  days  gone  by,  and  sang  it  in  real  African  style, 
which  to  Marie  was  amusing  and  helped  to  break  the 
spell  that  Polly  had  thrown  around  her. 

Poor  Mrs.  Stocklaid !  Had  she  been  accustomed  to  the 
desultory  manner  of  drunken  women  that  day  as  she 
afterward  became,  she  would  have  feared  this  one  less 
and  not  been  so  strangely  moved  as  she  was.  But  be 
cause  of  old  associations  her  heart  overflowed  with  pity 
for  this  poor  slave  to  alcohol.  Had  she  had  even  a  little 
niche  in  her  snuggery,  it  must  surely  have  been  given 
to  poor  black  Polly  with  the  hope  that  she  might  be  re 
claimed.  As  it  was,  she  was  only  able  to  lend  her  sym 
pathy  and  tell  of  Jesus'  love  and  power  to  save  even  such 
as  she.  Her  love  she  lavished  freely  upon  the  disconso 
late  creature. 

Just  then  Ruth  came  in  to  inquire  how  the  occupants 
of  the  cottage  enjoyed  their  new  domicile  and  stopped 
short  as  she  saw  the  familiar  face  of  Polly  Hopkins,  for 
whom  she  had  done  a  hundred  good  turns.  As  the  black 
woman  arose  to  go,  Marie  took  her  hand  and  tenderly 
said:  "When  you  are  in  trouble  and  want  sympathy, 
Polly,  come  to  me  and  I  can,  at  least,  weep  with  you  and 
tell  you  of  a  Savior's  love.  Any  time  when  you  want 


250  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

to  leave  the  old  life  and  begin  a  new  one,  remember, 
Polly,  I  am  ready  to  help  you." 

The  dusky  figure  vanished  from  the  door,  and  Marie 
came  back  to  find  Ruth  still  standing.  Her  cheeks  were 
radiant  with  life  and  animation  as  she  said:  ''Come,  dear, 
let  us  be  off,  for  the  meeting  began  an  hour  ago." 

The  state  executive  meeting  of  the  Woman's  Christian 
Temperance  Union  had  convened  at  headquarters  for  the 
purpose  of  discussing  methods — legal,  educational,  and 
otherwise — to  help  on  the  good  work.  That  body  was 
first  going  to  take  up  prison  work,  and  as  they  entered 
the  superintendent  was  pleading  for  an  assistant;  some 
one  who  would  be  willing  to  give  time  and  energy  to 
the  department.  When  the  superintendent  was  seated 
a  little  woman  with  glowing  face  and  an  elegant  contour 
stood  up  and  said:  "Madam  President,  I  suggest  the 
name  of  our  new  member,  Mrs.  Marie  Stocklaid,  whom 
I  understand  is  intensely  interested  in  reformatory  work." 

Ruth  and  Marie  entered  just  in  time  to  catch  the  lady's 
remarks.  Ruth  arose  and  said:  "Yes,  ladies,  I  heartily 
coincide  with  our  sister's  remarks.  Mrs.  Stocklaid  is  al 
ready  in  the  work  and  a  member  in  high  standing  of  her 
own  church,  and  would  indeed  be  a  credit  to  our  society 
in  whatever  place  you  may  put  her.  If  you  had  seen  her 
just  now  crying  over  that  poor  old  wretch,  Polly  Hop 
kins,  you  would  believe,  as  I  do,  that  she  has  an  adapta 
bility  in  this  line  of  work." 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  accepted  the  appointment  and  prom 
ised  to  work  diligently  to  rescue  the  fallen  of  the  city. 
"Next,"  said  the  president,  "is  the  labor  question.  I  be 
lieve  the  time  has  come  when  we  can  no  longer  ignore 
this  reform.  It  has  become  a  national  issue.  Frances 
Willard  has  given  her  hearty  indorsement  to  the  ques 
tion,  and  many  of  the  best  women  of  the  country  are 


DUPLICATING  THE  LABOR  DEPARTMENT.  251 

most  radical  agitators  of  the  movement.  Now,  ladies, 
what  will  you  do?  Will  you  open  a  discussion  and  get 
the  opinion  of  the  board  upon  this  important  depart 
ment?" 

Ruth's  eyes  sparkled  with  delight.  She  was  about  to 
make  a  speech  when  a  little  woman  with  a  brilliant  ad 
dress,  one  who  had  never  quite  forgiven  her  for  daring 
to  be  a  self-made  woman,  arose  and  addressed  the  chair: 
"Madam  President,  the  labor  question  is  foreign  to  our 
work  and  I,  for  one,  am  opposed  to  the  department. 
These  labor  people  have  given  us  much  trouble  already. 
Their  arguments  are  wrong,  and  I  am  in  favor  of  letting 
them  alone.  It  does  not  seem  that  it  is  necessary  for  us 
to  duplicate  this  department  just  because  the  National 
Union  have  unwisely  taken  it  up  just  for  their  especial 
benefit.  Why,  only  to-day,  some  of  the  machine  shops 
are  closed  because  these  men  have  gone  on  a  strike,  de 
manding  from  their  employers  the  most  preposterous 
measures.  I  for  one  hope  that  this  intelligent  and  august 
body  of  women  will  not  consider  the  department." 

Ruth  then  arose  to  her  feet  and  awaited  recognition 
from  the  chair.  "Miss  Mansfield,"  said  the  president, 
"has  something  to  say." 

Ruth  began:  "Madam  President,  the  sister  has  been 
talking  out  of  order,  as  there  is  no  question  before  the 
house.  I  will  therefore  move  that  we  duplicate  this  de 
partment  of  labor  and  appoint  a  superintendent."  There 
being  a  hearty  second,  Miss  Mansfield  proceeded  to  talk. 
She  said:  "I  am  glad  that  this  question  is  open  for  dis 
cussion,  for  according  to  my  way  of  thinking  there  is 
no  department  in  all  our  national  \vork,  of  more  vital  im 
portance  to  our  people,  either  religiously,  socially,  or  po 
litically,  than  the  Labor  reform.  There  is  a  great  contro 
versy  going  on  between  Capital  and  Labor — a  deficiency 


252  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

that  must  be  settled — and  a  question  that  can  never  be 
settled  until  it  is  settled  right.  My  only  surprise  has  been 
that  this  wise  body  of  counselors  have  been  silent  so  long 
upon  this  issue.  Our  sister  has  said  that  the  workingmen 
are  giving  us  trouble.  This  is,  indeed,  true,  and  they  will 
continue  to  give  us  trouble  until  our  country's  wrongs 
are  righted  and  Labor  is  in  full  possession  of  its  birth 
right,  which  is  nothing  more  than  man's  justice  to  man. 
If  we  wish  to  hasten  on  a  terrible  disaster  to  our  country 
then  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  fold  our  hands  and  let  these 
workingmen  alone,  for  over  us  now  is  hovering  a  cloud 
that  is  darker  and  more  ominous  than  the  liquor  traffic 
or  any  other  vice  with  which  we  are  contending.  Ameri 
ca  to-day  is  sleeping  on  the  verge  of  a  fearful  awakening! 
The  question  is,  will  this  society  come  in  as  a  mediator 
between  Capital  and  Labor  and  help  to  bring  about  a 
peaceful  arbitration,  or  will  it  wash  its  hands  of  mercy 
and  hasten  on  the  calamity?" 

As  Ruth  sat  down  a  lady  whose  face  portrayed  a  brave, 
dauntless  spirit  arose  and  with  a  strong  German  accent 
said:  "Madam  President,  I  heartily  goincide  mit  all 
dat  Mees  Mansfield  has  sait,  and  mos  sincerely  hope  dat 
des  vimmins  vill  duplicate  dat  department  of  relations  os 
demperance  to  Labor;  and  I  vill  now  move  dat  ve  ap 
point  as  superintendent  for  de  state  Mees  Mahitable  Ann 
Grimshaw." 

The  president  smiled  as  the  lady  sat  down.  There  was 
no  further  discussion,  and  Ruth's  face  glowed  with  eager 
expectation  as  the  vote  was  taken  and  the  lady  stood  be 
fore  them  elected. 

The  tall,  angular  form  of  Mahitable  Ann  arose  to  her 
feet,  and  coming  forward  she  took  the  extended  hand  of 
the  president  and  said:  "With  the  help  of  God,  dear 
madam,  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  for  the  society,  and  I 


DUPLICATING  THE  LABOR  DEPARTMENT.  253 

will  strive  as  a  mediator  to  make  peace  between  Capital 
and  Labor.  But  I  wish  to  ask  one  question:  Is  that 
grand  army  of  women  which  Ruth  Mansfield  has  already 
enrolled  in  the  interests  of  Labor  incumbent  upon  this 
society  in  their  relation  to  the  reform?" 

"Not  necessarily,"  explained  the  wise  woman  in  the 
chair.  "However,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  a  speedy  coales 
cence  of  the  two  bodies  will  hasten  our  deliverance  from 
the  monopoly  of  rum  and  the  monopoly  of  gold,  which 
are  about  one  and  the  same  thing." 

Marie  went  to  her  home  that  day  and  pondered  over 
her  calling.  What  could  she  do  to  lift  up  the  fallen  and 
hasten  their  deliverance  from  the  power  of  Satan?  The 
question  was  a  momentous  one  and  worthy  of  a  better 
and  holier  service  than  she  felt  herself  able  to  give.  She 
reverently  called  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  to  give  her 
wisdom  for  the  lowly  work  to  which  she  had  been  ap 
pointed.  Feeling  her  need  of  spiritual  advice  she  sought 
her  father  confessor  for  counsel  and  laid  the  whole  mat 
ter  at  his  feet.  Would  she  get  help  and  comfort  at  the 
hands  of  that  good  man?  Ah,  yes!  Laying  his  hand 
upon  her  head,  he  blessed  her  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
and  made  special  mention  of  the  white  ribbon  which  she 
wore  upon  her  dress — the  emblem  of  purity  adopted  by  the 
temperance  women  of  the  world.  Marie  told  him  of  her 
new  birth  in  Christ,  and  the  holy  joy  that  had  come  into 
her  heart  that  day  when  she  knelt  with  Ruth  in  prayer 
and  made  a  full  surrender  of  self  unto  the  Lord,  and  of 
the  fullness  of  love  that  filled  her  heart,  even  the  new  spirit 
which  He  had  given  her. 

The  good  man  earnestly  besought  her  to  enter  the 
convent  and  there  let  the  spirit  of  her  beautiful  life  be 
shed  upon  those  who  might  come  to  her  for  instructions. 

But  the  woman  replied:     "Oh,  no,  Father  Hachilah,  I 


254 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


can  not  do  that;  but  I  will  let  the  influence  of  a  holy  life 
in  Christ  fall  upon  my  sisters  in  the  church,  and  in  my 
work  for  humanity  I  will  so  live  that  God  may  be  hon 
ored  in  all  that  I  shall  do." 

Thus,  with  a  full  preparation  for  her  work,  Marie  kept 
herself  at  the  feet  of  the  blessed  Master  who  had  so  won- 
drously  called  and  endowed  her  for  the  work.  But  how 
or  where  she  was  to  begin,  she  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
in  the  world;  though  God,  in  whom  she  trusted,  would 
lead  the  way. 


WHERE  THE  POOR  ARE  NOT  ADMITTED. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

POOR  LITTLE  JUNE  BUD. 

On  the  following  day,  as  Marie  was  wending  her  way 
down  Market  street,  she  was  startled  to  see  a  crowd  of 
men  gather  quickly  around  some  object  upon  the  pave 
ment.  What  could  it  be?  Her  curiosity  got  the  best 
of  her.  Little  dreaming  that  the  Lord  had  brought  her 
face  to  face  with  the  work  of  her  department,  she  asked: 
"What  is  it,  gentlemen?" 

The  reply  was  a  heartless  one,  it  seemed  to  her:  "Oh, 
nothing;  only  a  woman  fainted." 

"Please  stand  aside!"  was  her  injunction  to  the  crowd; 
and  Mrs.  Stocklaid  bent  over  the  prostrate  figure  of  a 
woman  with  pinched,  drawn  features,  which  told  of  want 
and  woe.  This  woman,  who  lay  stretched  upon  the  stone 
pavement,  needed  help.  Marie  loosened  her  dress,  chafed 
her  hands,  and  ere  long  the  poor  creature  opened  her  eyes 
again.  The  men  then  lifted  and  laid  her  upon  the  stone 
steps  of  the  Baldwin  Theater.  "Go  for  a  doctor,"  said 
Marie.  "Why  don't  some  one  go  for  a  doctor?" 

Poor,  ignorant  woman!  She  did  not  know,  she  had 
not  dreamed  that  a  doctor  was  never  called  for  a  case 
like  this.  Had  she  been  bending  above  a  woman  of 
wealth  medical  aid  would  have  been  at  her  elbow,  but 
this  was  a  woman  of  the  town,  who  earned  her  living  her 
self.  A  man  at  her  side  took  out  a  flask  and  said:  "Here, 
madam,  give  her  this;  it  will  r\o  her  good." 

Marie  took  it  in  her  hand  and  smelled  the  contents. 
Handing  it  back  to  the  man,  she  said:  "It  is  whisky, 


258  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

sir;  put  it  away.  It  is  that  vile  stuff  that  brings  so  many 
of  my  own  sex  to  lives  like  this." 

The  suffering  woman  had  revived  sufficiently  to  be 
stung  by  the  curt  remarks  as  they  fell  from  Marie's  lips. 
Bursting  into  tears,  she  said:  "Oh,  no,  madam!  It  is 
not  drink  that  has  brought  me  to  where  I  am,  but  it  was 
hunger  and  want  that  forced  me  out  upon  the  street.  I 
am  too  ill  to  work,  but  am  hungry,  and  for  three  days  I 
have  walked  the  streets  asking  for  something  to  do  to 
earn  a  morsel  of  bread.  But  no  one  wants  such  a  one 
as  I;  and  I  am  starving  for  food,  but  I  am  not  a 
drunkard." 

The  pitiful  tale  touched  some  man's  heart  and  he 
dropped  a  twenty-five-cent  piece  in  Marie's  hand  and 
said:  "Get  her  something  to  eat."  How  big  the  man's 
heart  was!  But  then  Mrs.  Stocklaid  excused  him,  for 
he,  too,  might  have  been  hungry.  Assisting  the  woman 
to  arise,  she  gave  her  her  arm  and  led  the  way  across 
the  street  to  a  palace  restaurant  and  gave  her  a  seat  at  a 
table  in  the  rear  of  the  room.  It  was  the  six  o'clock  din 
ner  hour  and  a  hundred  people  sat  at  their  meal.  Pres 
ently  the  proprietor  came  and  said:  "Madam,  that 
woman  can't  eat  in  here;  we  don't  feed  vagrants." 

"But,  sir,  she  has  money  to  pay  for  her  food,  and  this 
place  is  open  to  the  public.  It  is  your  duty,  sir,  to  feed 
all  who  come." 

The  man  went  away,  but  immediately  returned,  and 
this  time  his  language  was  most  imperious  as  he  repeated : 
"Madam,  that  woman  can  not  be  given  food  to  eat  in  this 
place.  You  must  take  her  away.  Don't  you  see  she  is 
drunk?" 

The  poor  creature's  chi  i  quivered  and  she  pressed  her 
hand  against  her  heart  as  with  a  haunted  look  of  pain 


POOR  LITTLE  JUNE  BUD.  269 

she  said:  "I  will  go,  dear  lady,  for  I  can  not  more  than 
starve  upon  the  street,  and  it  would  be  a  mercy  if  God 
would  let  me  die." 

Marie  arose  and  gave  her  arm  to  the  trembling  figure 
by  her  side,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  place  when  she 
beard  a  sneer  and  a  coarse  jest  at  her  expense.  She 
paused  to  see  from  whom  it  came.  It  was  Harry  Rums- 
ford.  She  waited  and  looked  up  and  down  at  the  line  of 
tables  and  their  occupants.  Why,  this  was  a  bon-ton  res 
taurant.  Very  elegant  people  were  these  men  and 
women — at  least,  so  they  seemed  from  their  outer  ap 
pearance.  To  Marie  there  was  something  wrong  in  the 
heart  when  these  people  could  sit  and  see  a  starving 
woman  driven  from  the  place  without  food;  and  why? 
Because  she  was  poor  and  they  supposed  her  to  be  un 
der  the  influence  of  drink,  when  at  the  plate  of  each  in 
dividual  was  a  bottle  of  wine  or  champagne,  and  many 
of  them  were  under  the  influence  of  it  already.  She  ques 
tioned:  What  was  the  difference  between  this  woman 
upon  her  arm,  even  if  she  was  intoxicated,  and  these 
heartless  people  before  her?  The  words  of  Ruth  came 
back  to  her  at  that  moment  with  redoubled  force — "the 
rich  and  the  starving  poor." 

Marie  bit  her  lip  as  she  moved  on  toward  the  door. 
At  length  she  paused  and  in  the  presence  of  those  people 
she  gave  utterance  to  the  feelings  of  her  heart.  Her  voice 
was  as  clear  as  a  bell,  but  what  she  said  she  afterward 
could  not  tell,  though  in  her  words  was  a  most  biting  re 
proof  and  a  reminder  of  the  coming  judgment.  In  after 
years  she  often  talked  of  her  first  public  address  delivered 
to  a  people  who  could  see  a  hungry  woman  driven  from 
the  table  because  she  was  poor  and  friendless. 

The  frail  creature  still  hung  upon  her  arm,  and  as  they 
crossed  the  threshold,  she  comforted  her  by  saying: 


260  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

"Never  mind,  I  will  take  you  to  my  home  and  feed  you 
there." 

Before  they  could  walk  to  the  car  that  stopped  at  Marie's 
door,  the  woman  again  grew  faint  and  said:  "I  can  not 
walk  another  step ;  I  fear  I  will  fall  again  upon  the  street." 

Leaving  her  seated  upon  a  box  on  the  sidewalk,  Marie 
ran  to  bring  her  food.  Upon  returning  she  found  her 
gone,  and  a  child  said  that  a  policeman  had  taken  her 
away. 

Marie  Stocklaid  was  getting  an  insight  into  the  suf 
ferings  of  poverty.  She  was  coming  close  enough  now 
to  make  her  believe  some  of  the  things  that  Ruth  had  said. 
She  bravely  started  on  in  pursuit  of  the  unfortunate 
woman  and  was  in  time  to  see  her  put  down  from  an 
express  wagon  as  though  she  had  been  a  brute  instead 
of  a  human  being.  She  was  hurried  down  into  the  damp, 
dark  prison  to  be  shut  in  behind  the  bars  with  a  company 
of  drunken,  besotted  women. 

Marie  followed  sorrowfully  into  the  loathsome  place 
and  looked  into  the  great  book  that  lay  upon  the  desk 
of  the  recording  officer.  There  was  the  name  of  "Rose 
Sommers"  and  over  against  it  the  one  word,  "drunk." 
Marie  expostulated  and  pleaded  with  the  officer  that  she 
be  released,  but  the  man  smiled  cynically  and  said:  "We 
know  that  character  better  than  you  do,  madam,  and  the 
law  must  do  its  work." 

"Great  God !"  thought  she,  "is  there  mercy  to  be  found 

in  the  hearts  of  men?"     She  thought  not,  and    as    she 

turned  away  and  sought  her  own  home,  she  realized  that 

,  she  had  found  the  key  to  the  department  of  work  to  which 

she  had  been  appointed. 

Ruth  came  in  to  spend  the  evening,  and  the  two  sat 
dowp  to  talk  over  the  incidents  of  the  day.  Marie  re 
peated  in  mournful  tones  the  story  of  poor  Rose  Som- 


POOR  LITTLE  JUNE   BUD.  261 

mers.  Ruth's  eyes  ran  down  with  tears  and  she  said: 
"Poor  Rose !  What  a  fate  hers  has  been !" 

"Oh,  do  you  know  her?"  asked  Marie.  "Do  tell  me 
whatever  has  brought  her  to  such  a  life  of  woe." 

"The  sequel  to  your  story,"  said  Ruth.  "Poor  little 
Rose  Westfield  was  born  of  gentle  parentage  and  came 
in  the  month  of  June,  and  her  mother  therefore  used  to 
say,  'My  little  Rose  June  Bud.' " 

Marie  grasped  Ruth's  hand.  "You  don't  mean  June 
Bud,  my  little  play  fellow?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Ruth.  "You  sent  me  one  night  to  watch 
beside  the  sick  bed  of  her  mother,  Mrs.  Westfield.  Well, 
that  night  her  mother  told  me  all  about  the  birth  of  her 
daughter  Rose  and  how  welcome  she  was  to  their  hearts 
and  home.  She  was  so  sweet  and  lovely  with  her  flaxen 
curls  and  heavenly  blue  eyes  and  she  seemed  more  like 
a  fairy  than  an  earthly  mortal.  But  one  day  when  she 
was  only  seven  years  old  an  epidemic  entered  her  home. 
Her  lovely  mother  and  excellent  father  were  taken  by  that 
fell  destroyer,  Death,  and  little  June  Bud  was  left  to  the 
mercy  of  the  world.  It  was  in  that  last  sickness  that  you 
sent  me  to  do  what  I  could.  Their  property  was  left  in 
solvent  and  therefore  little  Rose  was  an  orphan  without 
any  natural  means  of  support.  The  little  thing  was  taken 
to  the  Children's  Home.  From  there  she  was  adopted,  in 
due  time,  into  the  family  of  some  excellent  people,  where 
she  lived  as  a  daughter  until  she  was  sixteen  years  of  age. 
The  good  woman  had  one  fault,  however,  which  proved 
to  be  the  means  of  giving  Rose  this  wretched  life.  She 
taught  her  to  think  that  labor  was  degrading,  and  as  she 
had  no  financial  prospects  in  life  she  should  marry  early. 
Foolish  woman  that  she  was !  If  she  could  only  have  seen 
her  error  Rose  might  have  been  a  useful  member  of  so 
ciety  to-day.  But  at  the  age  I  have  mentioned  she  be- 


262  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

came  acquainted  with  Mr.  Sommers,  a  man  of  pleasing 
address  and  who  had  a  good  reputation  as  salesman  in 
one  of  the  first  business  houses  of  the  city.  To  him  she 
gave  her  hand  in  marriage  and  received  the  blessing  of 
her  foster  parents,  who  felt  that  they  now  had  done  for  the 
girl  the  best  and  all  they  could.  True,  Rose  knew  that  he 
was  a  wine  drinker,  but  when  I  tried  to  persuade  her  that 
it  was  a  dangerous  thing  to  marry  even  a  moderate  drink 
er,  she  replied  with  somewhat  of  assurance:  "I  feel  that 
I  can  trust  Mr.  Sommers."  And  although  she  confessed 
to  me  that  she  did  not  love  the  young  man  more  than 
any  other  of  her  acquaintances,  "Yet,"  said  she,  "my  foster 
mother  urges  me  to  accept  him,  as  I  may  not  soon  again 
have  another  offer  of  marriage.  He  says  it  would  be 
a  dreadful  thing  for  me  to  have  to  work  for  my  own 
maintenance,  and  hints  at  the  great  expense  that  my  sup 
port  is  to  her.  And  beside,"  said  June  Bud,  "you  know, 
Ruth,  that  nearly  all  young  men  use  wine  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent." 

"Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  I  will  say  that  the 
child-wife  very  soon  discovered  that  her  moderate  drink 
er  was  a  strong  drinker.  She  was  a  girl  possessed  of 
dauntless  courage,  and  did  not  grow  disheartened,  but 
sat  about  to  work  a  reformation  in  her  husband.  She 
attended  Sabbath  school  and  held  a  membership  in  one 
of  the  prominent  churches  of  San  Francisco,  but  after 
months  of  fruitless  endeavor  she  found  that  her  efforts 
were  vain  and  that  her  husband  was  fast  becoming 
hopelessly  abandoned  to  drink.  Coming  home  one  night 
in  a  beastly  state  of  intoxication,  he  flew  into  a  rage  at 
some  trivial  offense,  and  laying  violent  hands  upon  her, 
threw  her  down  a  flight  of  stairs.  She  was  taken  up  for 
dead,  but  became  conscious  and  was  taken  to  the  city  and 
county  hospital,  where  soon  she  became  the  mother  of  3 


P(JOR  LITTLE  JUNE   BUD.  263 

child  that  lived  only  a  day.  The  husband  refused  to 
take  her  home  again,  and  she  sought  in  her  feeble  state 
of  health  to  find  some  light  and  lucrative  employment 
by  which  she  could  earn  her  bread.  In  this  endeavor  she 
was  often  overwhelmed  with  discouragements  and  many 
grievous  trials  rose  up  to  meet  her  on  the  way.  With 
stout  heart  she  fought  against  want,  beating  it  back  with 
despair  as  it  tried  to  creep  in  at  her  door.  One  day 
hunger  drove  her  out  upon  the  street,  and  she  stood  at 
the  door  of  a  palace  home,  which  chanced  to  be  the  very 
house  where  she  was  born,  asking  for  bread. 

"The  heartless  mistress  of  the  mansion  called  an  of 
ficer  and  Rose  was  taken  to  the  station  charged  with  va 
grancy.  Poor  child!  Thrown  into  the  association  of 
drunkards  and  harlots,  she  soon  became  abandoned  to 
that  society  and  has  ever  since,  when  not  languishing  in 
prison,  wandered  upon  the  street.  Sometimes  she  is  for 
tunate  enough  to  find  a  little  job  of  work,  but  oftener  she 
is  left  to  beg  her  bread.  It  was  thus  you  found  her  to 
day,  Marie.  Not  guilty  of  any  misdemeanor,  but  bear 
ing  the  sins  of  society.  God  pity  poor  little  June  Bud!" 

Marie's  face  was  buried  in  Ruth's  lap,  and  as  she  fin 
ished  the  recital  of  the  sad  life  she  wept  and  echoed  the 
words:  "Poor  little  June  Bud!" 

Ah,  dear  mothers,  you  who  sit  so  securely  in  your  pal 
ace  homes,  hugging  to  your  bosom  your  own  little  darling 
daughters,  think  for  a  moment  of  the  story  of  poor  Rose 
Sommers,  and  how  often  her  case  is  repeated  in  society, 
and  meditate  upon  these  words:  Who  knows  but  it  will 
be  your  own  child  next  that  must  fall  to  fill  up  the  gap 
that  June  Bud  will  make  when  she  bids  farewell  to  life 
on  earth. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

FINDING  HER  MISSION. 

For  some  time  Marie  sat  with  bowed  head  struggling 
with  emotion.  The  sad  story  of  Rose  Sommers  had  gone 
down  like  a  probe  of  steel  into  her  soul.  At  last  she  took 
her  friend's  hand  tenderly  in  her  own  and  said:  "Dear 
Ruth,  I  am  glad  that  you  have  given  me  the  sequel  to  my 
story  of  to-day's  experience,  for  it  will  strengthen  me  in 
my  purpose  to  do  good  as  I  go  down  into  that  dark,  foul 
atmosphere  to  minister  to  those  lost  'spirits  in  person.'" 

Pausing  a  moment,  she  continued:  "Ruth,  do  you 
think  I  could  preach  the  gospel  to  those  lost  and  helpless 
creatures?" 

"Yes,  Marie,  why  could  you  not?  If  you  had  the  cour 
age  to  speak  to  the  occupants  of  that  restaurant  to-day, 
surely  you  could  talk  to  those  who  are  yearning  for  your 
words  of  sympathy  and  a  mother's  love." 

"Ah,"  replied  Marie,  "but  it  was  not  my  courage  that 
helped  me  speak  to-day;  but  the  spirit  that  God  gave 
me.  He  gave  me  the  words  and  He  was  my  courage." 
Then  looking  earnestly  into  Ruth's  face,  she  asked: 
"Whom  do  you  think,  dear,  I  could  get  to  accompany 
me  on  such  a  mission  of  love?" 

"You  need  but  one,  Marie,  and  that  one  you  already 
have,  even  Christ.  The  least  demonstration  you  can 
make  will  be  the  more  acceptable  to  the  officers  in  charge, 
and  farther  reaching  with  the  prisoners." 

With  an  affectionate  good-night,  the  two  ladies  parted 
and  Marie  retired  to  rest,  but  not  to  sleep,  for  there  upon 
her  bed  she  was  perfecting  a  plan  of  work  that  would  in- 


266  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

deed  be  the  means  of  rescuing  souls.  Long  and  earnest 
ly  that  night  she  prayed,  entreating  God  to  endow  her 
with  wisdom  for  the  work  that  had  come  so  unexpectedly 
to  her.  She  planned  her  work  in  the  small  hours  of  night, 
then  closed  her  eyes  in  sleep.  She  arose  in  the  morning 
with  a  calm  and  fixed  purpose  in  her  mind.  When  the 
morning  devotions  were  over,  and  little  Earnie  had  de 
parted  for  the  kindergarten,  she  put  upon  her  a  plain 
bonnet  and  wrap  and  taking  her  Bible,  Ruth's  present 
to  her^  she  bade  Jeanetta,  who  was  now  her  only  house 
maid,  good-morning,  and  wended  her  way  to  the  city 
prison.  Taking  her  position  in  a  place  where  she  could 
be  heard,  she  tuned  her  voice  and  sang  in  most  tender 
strains: 

"Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood 

From  thy  riven  side  which  flowed, 

Be  for  sin  a  double  cure, 

Save  me  from  its  guilt  and  power." 

As  the  strains  of  her  musical  voice  were  dying  away, 
she  caught  the  inspiration  of  the  spirit  that  was  working 
mightily  with  those  behind  the  bars,  and  opening  her 
Bible  read  a  few  well-chosen  verses.  Then  with  the  ten 
derness  of  woman  and  the  gentle  spirit  of  the  Lord,  she 
lifted  up  her  voice  and  told  them  of  Jesus  and  His  power  to 
save,  even  to  the  uttermost.  She  then  gave  them  her 
home  address,  and  bade  them,  one  and  all,  when  they 
should  again  be  free,  to  come  to  her  for  counsel  as  they 
would  go  to  a  mother. 

Going  to  the  cell,  she  learned  that  poor  little  June  Bud 
had  been  sentenced  to  six  months  in  the  House  of  Cor 
rection.  Turning  away,  bitter  thoughts  came  into  her 
heart  as  she  meditated  upon  man's  inhumanity  to  man; 


FINDING  HER  MISSION.  267 

yes,  and  cruelty  to  woman.  As  she  stood  waiting  for 
the  turnkey  to  let  her  out,  an  officer  whom  she  saw  while 
talking  pass  a  bottle  of  whisky  into  the  women's  cell,  came 
to  her  and  in  a  most  incredulous  manner,  which  betok 
ened  lack  of  sympathy  with  her  work,  said:  "Madam, 
what  do  you  hope  to  gain  by  this  morning's  work?" 

Marie's  face  looked  a  little  puzzled,  for  she  had  not 
much  thought  of  the  result.  She  had  felt  the  drawing  of 
the  spirit  and  had  listened  to  its  leading,  but  now  that 
the  question  had  been  so  fairly  put,  she  gave  it  a  thought 
and  right  then  and  there  asked  herself:  "What  had  she 
hoped  to  gain?"  The  Spirit  whispered:  "I  have  planted, 
Appolis  watered,  but  God  gave  the  increase."  And  she 
smiled  pleasantly  at  him  and  answered:  "I  think,  sir,  I 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  results  of  my  labors.  The 
Lord,  who  put  it  into  my  heart  to  come,  will  take  care 
of  the  results.  But  when  I  get  into  Heaven,  as  I  hope 
to  some  day,  I  shall  expect  to  see  some  of  these  poof 
wretched  souls  up  there  in  white  raiment." 

"Oh,  bah !"  said  the  man.  "Why  madam,  those  women 
behind  the  bars  haven't  got  any  souls !  They  have  grown 
to  be  animals !  dogs !  brutes !  Surely  there  is  no  good  in 
them!" 

For  a  moment  the  utmost  astonishment  was  depicted 
upon  Marie's  face,  for  the  man's  words  sounded  to  her  as 
though  he  himself  was  void  of  manhood.  Then  she 
looked  at  him  and  said:  "I  fear  you  are  quite  as  much 
in  darkness  pertaining  to  your  soul's  need  as  they.  None 
ever  yet  fell  so  low  that  there  was  not  a  little  good  within 
them." 

While  her  words  were  yet  tingling  in  the  ears  of  the 
officer,  she  bowed  herself  out  of  the  prison  and  went  her 
way  to  the  House  of  Correction  in  quest  of  Rose  Som- 
mers,  for  she  said  to  herself:  "I  may  not  be  able  to  do 


268  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

her  any  good,  but  I  can  at  least  tell  her  that  I  am  her 
old  playfellow  and  that  I  love  her  still."  Arriving  at  that 
institution,  she  was  shown  into  the  woman's  apartment, 
and  found  there  in  a  close,  narrow  cell  the  poor  dove, 
smirched  and  stained  by  the  sins  of  all  with  whom  she 
had  come  in  contact.  She  scarcely  bore  any  resemblance 
to  the  idolized  child  who  had  only  a  few  years  before  been 
the  apple  of  a  mother's  eye.  Here,  too,  she  found  a  piece 
of  work.  The  good  matron  came  in  and  unlocked  the 
door  of  the  cells,  allowing  the  women  to  come  out  and 
sit  down  while  their  visitor  read  to  them  from  the  word 
of  God. 

Oh,  how  hopeful  was  this  new-found  work  to  Marie. 
While  here  she  forgot  her  own  sorrow  and  was  lost  in 
the  thought  of  rescuing  others. 

Hearing  a  sound  in  one  of  the  cells,  she  asked  the 
matron:  "Is  there  any  inmate  who  has  not  come  out  to 
sit  with  us?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  lady,  "we  have  one  woman  who  is 
such  a  terror  to  us  that  we  never  let  her  out." 

"May  I  not  see  her?"  asked  Marie.  And  the  two  moved 
toward  a  cell  occupied  by  a  woman  whose  hair  was  white 
as  snow. 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  reached  her  hand  in  through  the  bars 
and  attempted  to  take  that  of  the  aged  prisoner,  who,  at 
the  familiarity  of  her  visitor,  drew  herself  up  full  height 
and  said: 

"Why,  madam,  what  impudence  on  your  part !  I  would 
have  you  know  that  I  am  no  ordinary  woman!"  and  with 
a  genuine  courtesy  of  "ye  olden  tymes,"  introduced  her 
self,  saying:  "I  am  Mrs.  Phil  Cadukes,  of  aristocratic 
fame,  and  I  do  not  wish  common  trash  to  call  upon  me, 
either." 

A  smile  flitted  over  the  countenance  of  Marie,  then  tears 


FINDING  HER  MISSION.  269 

sprang  to  her  eyes  as  she  turned  from  the  cell  and  con 
templated  what  it  meant  to  be  a  lost  soul  with  the  sins 
of  eighty  years  weighing  one  down.  As  she  was  about 
to  leave  she  stepped  into  the  office  of  the  superintendent 
and  gained  permission  to  pay  weekly  visits  to  the  insti 
tution  that  she  might  bring  the  gospel  to  the  prisoners, 
both  male  and  female,  and  point  them  to  a  better  life. 
On  her  way  homeward  that  day  she  drew  a  comparison 
between  her  life  at  this  present  time  and  that  of  a  few 
years  before.  What  a  wonderful  change  had  been 
wrought  in  her  life!  She  laughed  when  she  looked  back 
to  that  old  time  and  thought  of  herself,  the  petted,  idol 
ized  doll  of  society,  with  no  thought  for  human  woes  and 
no  love  for  other  than  herself. 

How  grateful  she  felt  toward  Ruth,  who  had  annoyed 
her  with  questions  of  reform  and  who  had  been  the  means 
of  bringing  her  into  such  a  place  as  the  Woman's  Chris 
tian  Temperance  Union,  where  she  could  bestow  her  love 
and  talent  upon  a  people  who  were  hungering  and  thirst 
ing  after  a  better  life. 

Once  she  would  have  scorned  one  like  herself,  but  to 
day  she  loves  as  the  One  who  "came  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost."  Who  could  say  that  she  had  not 
been  born  again?  There  was  no  uncertainty  about  the 
conversion  of  Marie  Stocklaid,  and  the  sweet  spirit  that 
had  come  to  abide  within  her  soul  gave  evidence  of  her 
new  and  higher  life. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  WOMAN'S  METHODS. 

One  might  suppose  as  they  have  followed  the  trend  of 
our  story  that  Ruth  Mansfield  had  climbed  all  the  way 
up  to  thirty  years  without  ever  having  had  a  serious 
thought  of  love  or  a  tender  impulse  for  any  one  of  the 
sterner  sex;  but  such  was  not  the  case,  for  if  there  was 
one  thing  that  Ruth  regarded  with  more  sacredness  than 
another,  it  was  that  Heaven-ordained  institution,  the  home. 
She  meant  some  day  to  have  one  and  with  it  a  husband 
of  ideal  manhood,  one  whom  she  could  honor  and  one 
who  would  in  turn  feel  equally  honored  to  call  her  his 
wife.  Of  late  this  matter  had  been  a  subject  of  thought 
with  her  and  was  demanding  her  closest  attention.  She 
had  begun  to  cast  about  to  find,  if  she  could,  the  counter 
part  of  her  existence.  She  had  been  looking  around  that 
she  might  judge  of  others'  happiness  something  of  the 
felicity  of  married  life.  As  yet  her  research  had  not  dis 
covered  a  single  case  where  she  thought  the  conjugal 
relationship  existing  between  two  people  exceeded  her 
own  state  of  single  blessedness.  To  be  sure,  there  was  a 
measure  of  happiness  which  doubtless  came  from  the 
harmony  of  two  amiable  spirits.  But  her  ideal  of  mar 
riage  was  where  two  souls  could  meet  as  one — two  lives 
that  could  so  harmoniously  blend  into  each  other  that 
the  very  atmosphere  could  but  tend  to  draw  one  Heaven 
ward.  In  such  an  influence  she  felt  that  it  would  be  an 
easy  matter  to  build  up  the  kingdom  of  home.  Such  a 
one  she  had  not  yet  found,  but  on  the  contrary,  her  in 
vestigation  had  revealed  to  her  the  fact  that  almost  every 


272  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

home  was  in  a  state  of  fermentation  and  that  oftener  than 
otherwise  husbands  and  wives  lived  in  open  broil  with 
each  other.  She  pondered  this  matter  that  was  of  so  much 
importance  to  herself  and  began  to  search  in  earnest  for 
the  true  reason  of  so  much  infelicity.  As  she  thought,  it 
over  her  mind  naturally  began  to  reach  o^it  and  search 
for  the  motive  power  that  made  people  so  inconsistent  in 
their  selection  of  an  affinity.  Here  she  stopped  short, 
for  she  found  that  only  one-half  of  the  people  had  been 
making  any  choice  at  all,  and  that  half  was  the  male  por 
tion  of  society  who  made  their  selection  of  a  wife  from  the 
head  rather  than  from  the  heart.  What  an  incongruous 
state  of  existence!  Was  it  indeed  true  that  woman  was 
so  inconsistently  indifferent  to  her  happiness  through  life 
that  she  had  no  choice  in  her  mate?  And  then  she  began 
to  count  the  scores  of  her  girl  friends  who  had  started 
out  in  life  together  with  herself.  All  were  married,  or 
had  been.  Was  any  of  them  mated?  And  if  they  were 
mated,  what  was  the  reason  that  they  were  so  restless 
and  beat  their  fettered  spirits  so  against  the  chains  that 
bound  them  in  wedlock?  She  held  in  her  hand  the  statis 
tics  showing  eighteen  hundred  and  forty  divorces  were 
granted  in  California  during  the  previous  year.  What 
an  awful  showing  for  society!  These  statistics  showed 
that  eighteen  hundred  and  forty  homes  were  broken  up 
probably  every  year  in  the  Golden  State!  Ruth  arose 
from  her  chair  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room.  This 
room  was  prettily  arranged  and  all  done  by  Ruth's  own 
hand.  Tenderly  caressing  the  various  objects  as  she 
passed,  she  said  to  them  as  if  addressing  living  creatures: 
"Ruth  Mansfield  will  never  marry  until  she  can  make 
her  own  choice  of  a  husband." 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning  and  her  door  stood  open  to 
let  in  the  bright  sunlight  of  Heaven.     As  the  words  fell 


A  WOMAN'S  METHODS.  273 

• 

from  her  lips  she  looked  up  and  beheld  standing  in  the 
doorway  her  ideal  of  manly  strength  and  beauty,  Mr. 
Jack  Halstead.  Politely  lifting  his  hat  and  graciously 
smiling  at  the  comic  expression  of  her  countenance,  when 
she  discovered  that  her  auditors  were  not  all  dumb  bits 
of  fancy  work,  he  said:  "I  believe  you,  Miss  Mansfield, 
and  I,  for  one,  would  like  to  be  the  man  that  would  sue 
for  your  hand  and  be  rejected."  As  he  spoke  he  walked 
in  and  helped  himself  to  a  chair,  showing  that  he  was  not 
an  entire  stranger  in  this  little  home. 

'Then  you  had  not  better  ask  it,  Mr.  Halstead,"  was 
her  curt  reply,  "and  thereby  save  your  feelings  from  a 
shock."  Thrusting  the  paper  into  his  hand,  she  said: 
"Look  here,  eighteen  hundred  and  forty  divorces  granted 
in  this  state  last  year,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  the  whole 
cause  of  it  is  the  unequal  existence  of  men  and  women. 

"Why  do  not  my  own  sex  assert  their  rights?  The 
bare  idea  of  a  woman  sitting  down  and  waiting  for  some 
man  to  come  and  ask  her  hand  in  marriage  before  she 
has  any  thought  of  herself  or  who  that  man  shall  be  is 
simply  preposterous !  A  poet  says  that  'a  woman  marries 
for  love.'  Poor  deluded  rhymer!  That  is  not  true. 
Woman  marries  the  first  man  that  asks  her  hand  whether 
she  loves  him  or  not.  And  why?  Simply  because  she 
fears  it  may  be  her  last  chance.  Society  has  declared 
that  it  is  unwomanly  for  one  of  the  gentler  sex  to  ask  a 
man's  hand  in  marriage.  Away  with  society  and  such 
foolish  customs  which  wreck  happiness  and  make  mis 
erable  homes  in  the  world!  I  repeat  it,  Mr.  Halstead, 
Ruth  Mansfield  will  never  marry  until  she  can  make  her 
own  choice  of  a  husband  and  propose  for  her  own  mate !" 

"Then,  Ruth,  be  sure  I  shall  never  ask  your  hand  in 
marriage." 


274  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

"What  a  cunning  fellow  you  are.  Tell  me,  Jack  Hal- 
stead,  what  has  brought  you  here  this  morning,  that  I 
may  change  this  subject,  which  I  believe  is  quite  admissa- 
ble  so  far  as  you  are  concerned." 

Jack's  eyes  twinkled  with  merriment  and  he  answered: 
"It  is  this,  Miss  Mansfield :  Those  labor  men  with  whom 
you  are  in  such  sympathy  have  taken  the  law  into  their 
own  hands  and  have  closed  all  the  car  shops  and  railroad 
offices  in  the  city,  and  are  now  holding  at  bay  an  armed 
force  of  police  that  are  in  duty  bound  to  quell  this  riot 
and  restore  peace  once  more.  Unless  those  fellows  can 
be  induced  to  desist  from  their  efforts,  there  will  be  blood 
shed  upon  the  streets  and  much  mourning  in  San  Fran 
cisco  before  the  night  comes  down."  Ruth  had  seated 
herself  in  her  dainty  wicker  chair,  which  she  had  trimmed 
with  pink  ribbons.  Her  navy  blue  frock  and  the  efful 
gent  beauty  of  her  face  made  a  pretty  contrast  and  the 
hot  blood  went  tingling  through  the  veins  of  Jack  Hal- 
stead  as  he  drank  in  the  lovely  vision  before  him.  As 
he  spoke  she  arose  and  began  to  put  on  her  bonnet  and 
gloves. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Miss  Mansfield?"  inquired 
Jack,  who  by  this  time  had  learned  that  this  dauntless 
spirit  never  made  any  false  motions. 

"Why,  Mr.  Halstead,  I  am  going  to  the  scene  of  action, 
of  course.  These  men  must  be  brought  to  their  senses 
and  prevented  from  any  rash  measure." 

"But,"  said  Halstead,  "the  street  cars  have  been  stopped 
in  that  direction  and  the  women  and  children  ordered  out 
of  the  neighborhood." 

"That  does  not  matter,"  replied  Ruth.  "I  can  get  there 
in  some  other  way." 

The  two  had  stepped  out  upon  the  walk.     Ruth  paused 


A  WOMAN'S  METHODS.  275 

and  in  her  enthusiasm  forgot  reserve  as  she  saw  a  lovely 
animal  tied  at  her  very  door,  and  asked: 

"Is  this  your  horse,  Jack?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Mansfield,  but  he  is  a  fractious  brute.  You 
can  not  ride  him." 

"Indeed  I  can.  Assist  me  to  mount  and  see  how  well 
I  can  sit." 

Placing  her  foot  in  the  stirrup,  the  next  moment  she 
went  flying  down  the  street  and  crossed  Market  in  the 
direction  of  the  disturbing  elements  of  the  peace.  Jack 
Halstead's  eyes  followed  her  with  true  admiration,  and 
he  exclaimed:  "Ye  gods,  behold  the  woman!  Who 
ever  thought  she  would  dare  to  ride  that  fiery  beast?" 
As  he  gazed  after  her  he  somehow  realized  that  there 
beat  within  his  breast  a  truer  and  tenderer  love  for  her  than 
he  had  ever  known  for  woman.  As  he  strode  on  in  the 
direction  where  his  horse  and  its  fair  rider  had  disap 
peared,  he  was  pondering  in  his  heart  the  words  which 
he  had  caught  as  they  fell  from  her  lips  in  her  own  pri 
vate  soliloquy:  "Ruth  Mansfield  will  never  marry  until 
she  can  make  her  own  choice  of  a  husband." 

"By  jove!"  said  he  aloud,  "that  cuts  me  off  entirely, 
for  I  am  not  the  man  she  would  choose ;  far  from  it.  Wish 
I  were  more  of  a  philanthropist,  or  an  anarchist,  or  a  revo 
lutionist,  or  whatever  the  dear  woman  is,  for  then  I  might 
hope  to  win  favor  in  her  sight." 

Could  Ruth  have  heard  this  soliloquy  as  the  man  was 
plodding  on,  nearing  the  scenes  of  strife  where  Capital 
and  Labor  stood  arrayed  in  open  arms  against  each  other, 
she  would  surely  have  laughed  at  the  epithets,  and  es 
pecially  at  "anarchist,"  for  it  was  far  from  her  heart  to 
have  any  sympathy  with  anarchism. 

In  five  minutes  from  the  time  Ruth  had  left  her  own  door 
she  was  dashing  right  among  the  crowds,  and  paused  in 


276  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

the  midst  of  a  squad  of  labor  men  and  shouted,  as  she 
wheeled  her  horse  into  position:  "Peace  be  unto  you." 
In  an  instant  a  hundred  hats  went  off  and  a  gentle  salute 
from  a  hundred  brawny  throats  was  wafted  out  on  the 
silent  air.  The  leader  of  the  labor  men  removed  his  hat 
as  he  drew  near  and  inquired:  "Miss  Mansfield,  what 
has  brought  you  here  at  this  time?  Can  you  help  us  in 
any  way?" 

"I  am  sure  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  lady,  "until  you 
tell  me  what  you  are  aiming  to  do.  Are  you  trying  to  get 
the  monopolists  of  San  Francisco  to  yield  to  your  de 
mands  by  shedding  the  blood  of  men?  Are  you  trying 
to  get,  by  physical  force,  that  which  you  in  all  reason 
know  you  can  never  obtain  except  through  education?" 

The  man's  cheek  crimsoned  and  Ruth  could  see  that  her 
words  had  smote  upon  his  heart  like  bullets,  but  she  waited 
for  him  to  speak.  "The  truth  is,  madam,  we  demand  cer 
tain  measures;  and  those  measures  we  must  have  or  these 
shops  will  remain  closed  for  the  next  year." 

"Yes,"  said  Ruth,  "and  undoubtedly  your  demand  is  a 
just  one.  But,  is  the  method  which  you  have  adopted  the 
surest  and  quickest  way  to  settlement?  Think  wisely  over 
this  step  you  have  taken.  Take  it  before  your  council  for 
a  second  consideration  before  a  shot  is  fired.  I  think  you 
will  change  your  mind  before  to-morrow's  sun.  Mean 
while,  sir,  I  have  come  to  invite  the  men  of  both  parties, 
Capital  and  Labor,  to  hold  an  open  and  free  discussion 
of  the  questions  involved  this  evening  at  the  Mechanic's 
Pavilion.  The  Working  Woman's  Congress  of  this  city 
will  be  there  to  receive  and  will  provide  a  feast  of  good 
things  for  all  who  come.  If  you  accept  this  invitation, 
we  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  send  us  ten  good  men  to  help 
the  women  in  preparing  the  feast." 

Graciously  thanking  her  for  the  kind  invitation,  the 


A  WOMAN'S  METHODS.  277 

officer  replied:  "I  think,  Miss  Mansfield,  that  you  can  rely 
upon  our  men.  We  will  attend  in  a  body,  for  thereby  we 
may  arrive  at  some  wise  settlement  of  this  unhappy 
business." 

At  that  moment  Jack  Halstead  came  up,  and  taking 
the  bridle  of  Ranger,  who  stood  pawing  the  ground  with 
his  powerful  hoof,  betokening  his  anxiety  to  be  away, 
said:  "Miss  Mansfield,  I  have  ordered  a  carriage  for  you. 
Allow  me ;  I  will  assist  you  to  alight."  Ruth  gave  her  hand 
to  him,  and  stepping  down  from  the  saddle  stood  at  his 
side.  She  detected  in  his  manner  a  spirit  of  undue  tender 
ness,  and  the  hand  clasp  that  lingered  longer  than  the 
time  necessary  for  assistance  brought  a  crimson  wave  to 
her  cheek.  To  cover  her  embarrassment,  she  patted 
Ranger's  nose  and  slipped  a  sugar  plum  into  his  mouth. 
Halstead  threw  the  bridle  over  his  arm,  and  together  the 
two  crossed  over  to  the  armed  police,  who  stood  in  solemn 
parlance,  not  knowing  just  what  their  course  should  be. 
Approaching  the  chief,  Ruth  gave  him  her  hand  and  re 
peated  the  invitation  for  the  Capital  and  Labor  men  to 
meet  in  the  Pavilion  that  night  for  an  open  and  free  dis 
cussion  of  all  their  difficulties.  In  a  most  impressive 
manner,  she  said:  ''Kind  sir,  with  all  diligence,  spread 
this  invitation  abroad,  for  much  depends  upon  this  meet 
ing.  It  is  a  woman's  method  of  bringing  about  a  peaceful 
arbitration  between  two  opposing  elements." 

At  that  moment  the  carriage  drew  up  and  Ruth  shook 
the  hand  of  Jack  Halstead  and  said:  "We  shall  shortly 
need  your  assistance  at  the  Pavilion."  Then  stepping  into 
the  carriage  she  was  driven  away.  She  went  directly  to 
the  messenger's  office  and  dispatched  messengers  to  all 
the  different  parts  of  the  city,  to  the  teachers  of  each  circle 
of  working  women,  whose  duty  it  became  upon  receiving 
the  message,  to  hasten  with  all  diligence  to  their  members 


278  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

and  lay  the  plan  of  work  before  them.  She  ordered  a 
grand  rally  of  the  women  to  assemble  at  three  o'clock 
sharp  at  the  Pavilion  to  prepare  a  feast  for  the  multitude, 
who  were  to  hold  counsel  there.  The  Working  Woman's 
Congress  had  been  expecting  this  call.  Previous  arrange 
ments  had  been  made  for  the  Pavilion,  and  everything 
was  in  readiness  to  turn  the  key  at  a  moment's  warning. 
They  had  felt  for  days  that  this  uprising  would  come. 
With  wonderful  adroitness,  this  body  of  consecrated 
women,  mothers,  daughters  and  sisters,  rushed  to  the  call 
of  their  young  priestess,  who  had  taught  them  that  in 
times  of  war  love  was  better  than  bullets.  It  was  wonder 
ful  to  see  how  everything  fitted  so  beautifully  to  the  oc 
casion. 

Psa.  68;  17:  "The  chariots  of  God  are  twenty  thou 
sand,  even  thousands  of  angels;  the  Lord  is  among  them." 

A  master  touch  seemed  to  be  given  to  every  hand,  as 
with  the  dexterity  of  skilled  workmen,  the  tables  were 
spread  and  bountifully  laden  for  the  evening.  Here,  too, 
was  Marie  with  her  gentle,  suave  manner,  speaking 
words  of  peace  and  good  will  to  those  sturdy  business 
like  women  who  were  able  to  grapple  with  such  a  mighty 
problem  as  that  of  to-day.  How  new  and  strange  all  this 
seemed  to  her,  as  she  watched  the  busy,  work-stained 
hands,  so  deft  and  skilled  in  labor.  She  heard  their  plain 
and  homely  language  as  they  talked  and  greeted  each 
other,  and  somehow,  she  could  not  tell  from  whence  it 
came,  but  she  found  that  she  was  in  very  truth  enjoying 
the  intercourse  she  held  with  them. 


AT    THE    RECEPTION. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 
THE  WORKING  WOMAN'S  CONGRESS. 

At  exactly  seven  o'clock  the  doors  were  opened  at  the 
Mechanic's  Pavilion  and  the  hosts  began  to  file  in.  Within 
the  space  of  one-half  hour  the  auditorium  was  packed  to 
its  utmost  capacity.  White  and  black,  American  and 
foreign  born,  men  and  women,  gathered  into  one  con 
glomerate  mass  to  listen  to  the  discussion  of  the  evening. 

The  utmost  excitement  prevailed.  No  such  gathering 
as  this  had  ever  before  been  assembled  in  the  city  of  San 
Francisco  in  the  interests  of  Capital  and  Labor.  Here 
there  was  to  be  open  and  free  discussion  of  all  their 
wrongs.  It  was  not  known  who  were  to  be  the  speakers 
of  the  evening.  Strong  and  wearisome  barterings  were 
heard  in  different  parts  of  the  house  and  most  extravagant 
language  was  being  used  by  many  of  the  populace. 

At  length  a  host  of  gentle  women  were  seen  to  come 
upon  the  platform  and  take  their  seats,  followed  by  many 
of  San  Francisco's  noble  men.  Great  was  the  gathering. 
Capital  and  Labor  sat  down  together.  At  that  moment 
Miss  Mansfield  arose  and  stepped  across  the  platform, 
then  taking  the  hand  of  his  Honor,  the  Mayor,  she  led 
him  to  the  front  and  gave  him  a  chair  that  until  this 
moment  had  been  vacant.  Turning  to  the  audience  she 
said:  "Beloved  citizens  of  San  Francisco,  we  to-night, 
for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  our  great  city,  are 
assembled  together  in  council  to  discuss  the  differences 
between  the  rich  and  poor.  We  all  come  as  members  of 
one  family  with  naught  in  our  hearts  but  love  for  each 
other.  We.  the  Working  Woman's  Congress  in  council 
assembled,  bring  you  tender  greetings  and  extend  to  you 


282  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

a  cordial  welcome  with  us  to-night.  Our  honorable  Mayor 
-  will  take  the  chair  and  preside  over  this  council 
and  let  us  render  unto  him  that  which  is  his  due,  honor 
and  obedience." 

As  Ruth  sat  down  the  air  vibrated  with  applause.  The 
Mayor  arose  to  his  feet  and  stepped  to  the  front  of  the 
platform.  A  hushed  stillness  seemed  to  pervade  the  air 
and  hearts  beat  in  solemn  accord  with  each  other  as  the 
deep,  rich-toned  voice  of  the  man  was  lifted  up  to  God  in 
prayer,  invoking  a  Father's  blessing  upon  his  children. 
Taking  his  seat,  the  voice  of  a  hundred  women  rang  out 
in  melody  as  they  sang  together:  "How  Firm  a  Founda 
tion,  Ye  Saints  of  the  Lord!" 

As  the  melody  of  their  inspired  voices  was  floating 
away  on  the  air,  his  Honor,  the  Mayor,  again  arose  and 
addressed  the  assemblage.  "My  beloved  people,  I  count 
myself  happy  to-night  for  the  privilege  this  moment  af 
fords.  ^Standing  as  I  do  before  you,  looking  down  into 
your  earnest,  trustful  faces,  we  can  but  feel  that  heart 
answers  to  heart  and  that  the  same  good-wrill  that  I  bear 
to  you  is  borne  back  to  me  again;  that  your  interests  are 
my  interests  and  that  your  woes  are  my  woes,  and  that 
whatsoever  influences  are  brought  to  bear  upon  your  life 
must  also  tend  to  lower  or  elevate  the  moral  standard  of 
our  city  and  each  individual  as  well.  The  same  is  true 
that  whatever  inspires  you  to  greatness,  piety  and  truth, 
must  also  ennoble  and  make  me  your  chieftain,  great  with 
my  people ;  and  since  this  occasion  has  in  it  the  same  in 
terest  to  me  as  to  yourselves,  I  desire  that  you  make  your 
plaint  known  to  us,  that  a  fair  and  impartial  consideration 
may  be  tendered  to  you.  In  order  that  this  may  be  done, 
we  give  to  you  the  first  hour  to  review  your  wrongs  and 
suggest,  if  you  can,  their  possible  remedy." 

Taking  out  his  watch,  he  said:    "I  rule  that  no  speaker 


THE  WORKING  WOMAN'S  CONGRESS.  283 

shall  be  heard  upon  the  same  subject  twice,  and  five 
minutes  will  be  the  extent  of  time  for  each  one  to  speak. 
Who  will  be  the  first  to  cite  a  wrong  from  either  side, 
Capital  or  Labor?" 

For  the  space  of  two  minutes  perfect  sil'ence  reigned 
throughout  the  assemblage  and  one  could  have  heard 
a  pin  drop  in  that  vast  audience.  Then  a  man  with  a  pale 
face  and  high-open  brow  arose,  just  down  in  front  of  the 
speaker's  stand.  His  hand  shook  and  his  knees  trembled 
beneath  him.  For  some  time  he  stood  battling  with  weak 
ness  and  every  ear  was  strained  to  catch  the  words  when  he 
should  at  last  begin  to  speak.  The  silence  was  growing 
painful,  but  at  length  he  said :  "Has  your  Honor  regarded 
me  well?" 

"Very  well,  young  man;  what  have  you  to  offer?" 

"I  am  hungry,"  said  the  man;  "I  have  hands  to  work 
and  a  spirit  willing  to  endure  hardship,  but,  sir,  I  have 
sought  in  vain  for  labor.  Capital  has  gold  stored  away 
and  the  banks  are  literally  groaning  beneath  their  burden. 
A  hundred  men  in  this  house  to-night  can  make  this  same 
complaint.  Will  you  give  us  a  remedy  for  the  wrong?" 

As  the  man  sat  down,  five  hundred  men  arose  to  their 
feet  and  five  hundred  voices  repeated  in  concert,  "We  are 
hungry.  The  markets  are  glutted  with  that  which  labor 
could  buy,  but  we  are  denied  that  boon.  Labor  is  bound 
by  monopoly.  We  have  willing  hands,  ready  to  work, 
but  are  obliged  to  repeat :  We  are  hungry:" 

As  the  five  hundred  men  took  their  seats,  a  woman 
arose  in  the  back  part  of  the  house.  She  was  delicately 
formed  and  her  body  thinly  clad.  She  hugged  a  nursing 
child  to  her  bosom  and  drew  a  tattered  shawl  closely 
about  her.  Her  voice  was  tremulous  with  fright  as  she 
said:  "Can  your  Honor  hear  my  voice?" 

"Yes,  my  good  woman,  I  can  hear  you." 


284  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Stretching  out  her  hands  unto  him  as  unto  Heaven  she 
most  pathetically  said:  "In  San  Francisco  there  are  five 
hundred  drinking  saloons!  They  take  the  bread  from 
the  mouths  of  my  children  and  I,  too,  am  hungry!" 

The  Mayor  was  seen  to  wipe  a  tear  from  his  eye  and  a 
number  of  Capitalists  upon  the  platform  moved  uneasily 
in  their  seats.  They  were  in  the  liquor  business. 

The  next  that  arose  was  a  little  girl.  A  pale,  sad-faced 
child.  She  wore  a  coarse  frock,  while  her  hands  were 
seamed  and  calloused  from  labor.  She  came  close  down 
in  front  and  looked  pleadingly  up  into  the  good  man's 
face. 

"Mr.  Mayor,  I  am  only  ten  years  old.  My  father  is 
dead  and  my  mother  is  poor.  I  have  to  work  in  the  shops 
to  earn  our  bread.  Please,  sir,  can't  I  go  to  school?" 

And  so  the  complaints  one  after  another  were  heard. 
The  good  Mayor  was  growing  bewildered.  He  took  off 
his  glasses,  adjusted  them  again  and  was  about  to  rise  to 
his  feet  when  another  woman  arose. 

She  was  tall,  angular  and  most  unbecomingly  clad.  On 
her  arm  she  carried  a  reticule  and  in  her  hand  a  green 
umbrella.  Her  voice  was  squeaky  and  shrill.  It  was 
Mahitable  Ann  Grimshaw  in  disguise  taking  a  part  on 
this  stage  of  life.  She  began :  "Mr.  Mayor,  your  Honor 
looks  very  honorable  indeed  to  we  common  folk ;  and  as 
we  look  up  into  your  face  to-night,  especially  we  women 
folks  as  are  maidens —  '  There  was  great  applause.  To  re 
store  order,  Mahitable  drummed  on  the  floor  with  her 
green  umbrella.  At  last  the  audience  grew  quiet  and  she 
continued :  "Now,  Mr.  Mayor,  you  must  extend  my  time, 
for  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  keep  back  that  applause. 
It  was  this,  sir,  that  I  was  about  to  remark:  In  all  that 
has  been  said  here  to-night,  these  good  people  have  failed 
to  touch  upon  the  most  vital  pint.  You  see,  sir,  I  live  in 


THE  WORKING  WOMAN'S  CONGRESS.  285 

a  tenement  house  and  get  the  rent  cheaper  if  I  pay  the 
water  bill.  Well,  times  got  hard  and  I  could  not  pay  that 
bill.  Then  the  water  was  turned  off  and  it  has  been  seven 
long  months,  sir,  seven  long  months  since  I  have  had  a 
good  bath." 

There  was  great  laughter. 

"Now  I  ask  your  Honor,  haven't  poor  folks  just  as  good 
a  right  to  be  clean  as  the  capitalists  in  whose  houses  we 
live?" 

The  Mayor  had  arisen  to  his  feet,  but  Mahitable  con 
tinued  to  talk:  "Last  night,  sir,  as  I  watched  by  the 
cradleside  of  a  neighbor's  dying  babe,  the  candle  went  out. 
You  see  as  how  poor  folks  can't  afford  to  burn  gas.  In 
the  dark,  with  that  dead  baby  in  my  arms,  and  the  poor 
bereaved  mother  clinging  to  my  hand,  it  was  to  me  the 
blackest  night  that  ever  settled  down  over  San  Francisco." 

Mahitable  took  out  her  kerchief  and  blew  her  nose  most 
profusely.  "And  now,  Mr.  Mayor,  I  want  to  ask  your 
Honor,  haven't  poor  women  got  a  right  to  see  their  babies 
die  as  well  as  the  mistresses  of  mansions?  Haven't  we 
got  a  right  to  see  as  well  as  to  be  clean?  And  I  want  to 
ask  ye,  sir,  why  the  water  and  light  don't  belong  to  the 
city  that  it  may  be  paid  for  by  the  taxation  of  Capital  so 
that  it  may  be  diffused  alike  to  the  rich  and  the  poor? 
I  tell  ye,  Mr.  Mayor,"  and  she  bradished  her  umbrella 
to  make  it  more  emphatic,  "what  Capital  needs  is  to  find 
its  heart  and  then  come  down  to  the  door  of  the  poor 
and  bestow  its  love  upon  them." 

The  Mayor  was  still  standing,  his  watch  in  hand,  when 
Miss  Mahitable  said:  "I  am  nothing  but  a  child.  It  is  for 
the  want  of  light  and  water  that  has  made  me  age  so  fast." 

There  was  great  laughter. 

"But  before  I  close  my  remarks,  I  wish  to  call  your 
attention  to  the  City  Railroad  system.  You  see,  sir,  we 


286  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

women  folks  are  feeble  critters  and  can't  walk  very  far, 
and  as  we  can't  all  live  in  the  same  place,  we  must  neces 
sarily  be  a  long  distance  from  our  work.  We  pronounce 
it  a  burning  shame  that  we  must  be  taxed  three  dollars 
a  month  for  two  rides  a  day.  Yes,  sir,  it  amounts  to  just 
that  to  the  great  majority  of  wage  working  women.  If 
the  city  owned  the  system,  it  could  afford  to  issue  tickets 
for  barely  enough  to  cover  the  expenses  of  the  enterprise, 
which  could  be  made  to  us  for  less  than  one  dollar  a 
month.  Now,  Mr.  Mayor,  we  lay  this  complaint 
heavily  upon  your  heart,  for  Capital  hasn't  got  any  heart 
to  lay  it  upon,  and  pray  for  a  speedy  deliverance  from  our 
wrongs."  Mahitable  sat  down  amid  great  applause,  for 
the  populace  was  most  uproarious. 

As  yet  nothing  had  been  said  by  the  strikers  and  Ruth 
was  beginning  to  grow  uneasy.  Presently  a  man  arose 
upon  the  platform.  It  was  the  president  of  the  Federated 
Trades.  Coming  to  the  front,  his  face  betrayed  a  depth 
of  feeling  and  his  calm  demeanor  argued  for  good.  Tak 
ing  the  hand  of  the  Mayor,  he  said:  "Your  Honor  has 
expressed  satisfaction  at  being  able  to  be  with  us  to-night, 
but  know  you,  sir,  that  another  heart  is  just  as  glad  as 
your  own.  The  words  that  have  been  uttered  here  this 
hour,  spoken  from  the  depths  of  aggrieved  hearts,  have 
given  me  a  deeper  thought  and  a  truer  purpose  than  I 
ever  before  dreamed  that  I  could  possess. 

"The  woes  of  the  city  poor  are  common  with  those  of 
the  railroad  men;  and  their  suffering  is  our  suffering; 
their  cause  is  our  cause;  and  this  matter  of  wrong  can 
never  be  settled  until  it  is  settled  right. 

"As  the  president  of  the  Federation  of  Organized 
Unions,  I  am  ready  to  declare  to  this  people  that  I  believe 
we  are  in  the  wrong.  Not  wrong  in  demanding  our 
rights,  but  wrong  in  the  methods  we  have  adopted.  Ever 


THE  WORKING  WOMAN'S  CONGRESS.  287 

since  that  memorable  time  when  Cain  and  Abel  just  out 
side  the  Garden  of  Eden  brought  their  offerings  unto  the 
Lord,  Labor  has  been  abased  and  Capital  has  held  a  high 
hand  in  the  judicial  governments  of  men.  To-day,  after 
six  thousand  years,  Labor  is  beginning  to  understand  the 
meaning  of  God's  parable  of  Cain  and  Abel  and  to  enter 
into  a  comprehension  of  what  it  means,  and  not  only 
beginning  to  clamor  for  its  rights,  but  demand  justice 
between  man  and  man.  The  question  that  yet  remains 
.to  be  answered  here  to-night  is,  how  can  these  rights  be 
obtained?  And  what  can  the  people  do  to  strike  off  the 
shackles  consigning  them  to  ignorance,  misery  and  crime? 
"Solomon  very  wisely  said:  Tn  a  multitude  of  counsel 
ors  there  is  safety/  and  now  since  we  have  listened  to 
the  grievances  of  the  poor,  let  us  hear  from  the  side  of 
Capital  an  answer  to  these  questions  under  discussion, 
telling  us  why  these  rights  should  not  be  granted  unto  us, 
or  yield  to  the  demand  that  is  made  by  organized  labor. 
The  trades  unions  are  composed  of  men  with  hearts  as  big 
as  ever  beat  within  a  human  breast.  They  are  a  united 
brotherhood.  They  are  men  who  are  willing  to  live  and 
to  let  live.  They  are  men  who  love  their  wives  and  chil 
dren,  who  desire  to  protect  them  from  ignominy  and 
poverty.  They  are  willing  to  die  like  men.  We  have 
made  a  demand  upon  Capital,  and  it  is  a  just  one.  Shall 
we  desist  and  bow  down  before  these  men  who  would 
make  us  their  slaves?  No,  my  brotherhood,  no!  We  will 
not  make  our  demand  less,  but  we  will  ask  for  more  at  the 
hands  of  Capital.  We  will  ask  that  the  treasuries  be  un 
locked  and  that  our  brothers  be  given  labor  for  their 
idle  hands  to  do.  We  will  ask  that  the  saloons  be  closed 
that  Capital  may  not  gorge  itself  on  the  money  that 
should  go  to  feed  the  children  and  the  disconsolate  wife 


288  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

of  the  drunkard.  We  will  ask  that  child  labor  shall  be 
frowned  upon,  and  that  the  city  feed  and  educate  the 
children  of  its  poor.  Yea,  we  will  acquit  ourselves  like 
men,  and  when  we  cast  our  ballots  we  will  legislate  like 
men  with  sound  minds  instead  of  like  fools,  as  we  have 
done  in  the  past.  We  are  especially  grateful  to  the  Work 
ing  Woman's  Congress  and  for  the  opportunity  they  have 
afforded  us  to-night  to  enlarge  our  demand  for  the  people. 
They  have  given  us  a  new  insight  into  the  business  on 
hand  and  as  men  and  brothers  we  will  yet  testify  to  them 
of  our  greatness  by  the  new  methods  we  shall  adopt." 

The  president  took  his  seat  amid  deafening  applause 
of  women  and  men.  The  Mayor  arose,  came  and  stood 
close  to  his  people.  At  last  from  the  depths  of  the  great 
man's  heart,  he  spoke:  "Beloved  children  of  the  city, 
the  problem  which  you  have  to-night  given  me  to  solve 
is  a  great  one  and  worthy  the  consideration  of  all  great 
and  good  people.  I  heartily  give  my  hand  to  the  work- 
ingman  and  say  to  the  brotherhood,  'I  am  with  you.'  The 
president  of  the  Federated  Trades  has  just  said,  This 
question  can  never  be  settled  until  it  is  settled  right; 
That  is  indeed  true.  There  is  but  one  way  to  settle  public 
difficulties  and  that  is  by  the  power  of  the  ballot.  If  you 
wish  to  break  the  chains  that  monopoly  has  cast  upon 
you,  you  must  vote.  If  you  want  to  close  up  the  saloons 
and  drive  out  the  'League  of  Freedom,'  which  is  the  most 
damnable  monopoly  that  ever  cursed  the  poor,  you  must 
vote.  If  you  want  to  protect  the  children  and  elevate  the 
womanhood  of  the  city,  state  and  nation,  give  woman  the 
ballot  and  she  will  protect  herself.  If  you  want  the  city 
to  own  its  water  and  light  and  the  things  that  are  a  neces 
sity  to  all  its  people,  agitate,  educate,  and  vote  for  the 
thirds  you  want.  Who  holds  the  power  of  the  ballot  in 


THE  WORKING  WOMAN'S  CONGRESS.  289 

their  hands,  the  rich  or  the  poor?  Fellow  citizens,  you 
know  well  to-night  that  whatever  Labor  shall  demand  by 
the  power  of  the  ballot,  it  shall  be  done  unto  you." 

Then  addressing  himself  directly  to  the  strikers,  he  said : 
"My  sons,  you  are  worthy  of  better  deeds;  clothed  with 
the  intelligence  of  gods,  blessed  with  the  power  of  reason, 
free  as  the  bird  that  mounts  upon  her  wing,  Labor  can 
soar  to  heights  where  she  can  wear  the  imperial  crown 
if  she  will  only  work  in  wisdom  'and  rule  by  ballots  instead 
of  bullets. 

"So,  boys,  declare  your  strike  off  and  go  to  work  like 
men  who  are  masters  and  not  slaves.  Eighty  per  cent,  of 
the  voters  of  America  are  workingmen.  .  Think  you  not 
that  eighty  labor  ballots  will  not  tell  against  twenty  of 
Capital?  Don't  be  deceived,  for  'in  wisdom  there  is 
strength,'  and  ignorance  is  the  mother  of  strife." 

The  Mayor  sat  down  and  Ruth  came  to  the  front  with 
a  look  of  inexpressible  satisfaction  resting  upon  her  coun 
tenance.  Then  her  clear  and  distinct  voice  was  heard  to 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  house  inviting  the  laboring 
men  and  their  friends  to  go  in  and  partake  of  the  feast 
that  had  been  prepared  for  all.  She  paused  a  moment, 
then  sang  the  anthem  written  expressly  for  the  labor  re 
form.  It  was  Ruth's  voice,  and  long  after  the  last  strain 
had  died  away  the  people  still  sat  spellbound. 

Not  waiting  for  the  audience  to  applaud,  she  left  the 
stage  and  went  directly  to  the  committee,  that  she  might 
be  the  first  to  welcome  the  brotherhood  to  the  feast  pre 
pared  by  the  working  women  of  the  city. 

What  a  glorious  opportunity  to  work  and  scatter  seed. 
Every  brave  woman  was  at  her  post.  They  all  felt  and 
saw  the  powerful  influence  of  woman's  love.  It  did  its 
work  upon  their  hearts,  and  gave  promise  of  a  rich  harvest 
in  the  labor  reform.  Men  ate  and  drank  and  for  once 


290 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


were  merry  without  wine.  When  all  had  departed,  a 
company  of  women  could  have  been  found  in  a  little 
side  room  kneeling  in  prayer,  imploring  God's  blessing  to 
rest  upon  the  labors  of  the  day. 

The  morning  papers  heralded  tidings  that  the  strike 
was  off  and  that  the  railroad  men  had  gone  to  work  upon 
the  old  terms. 

A  long  account  was  also  given  of  the  previous  evening, 
and  much  extravagant  praise  was  given  to  the  Woman's 
Congress  that  had  so  nobly  arbitrated  for  good.  Ruth 
read  the  account  and  blessed  God  for  the  noble  corpora 
tion  of  women.  The  great  object  of  one  day's  work  was 
gained,  but  what  the  rest  would  be  she  could  not  tell.  She 
knew  though  that  He  who  had  turned  the  wheel  thus  far 
would  turn  it  still. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

PRESIDENT   BRUMBLEBUG. 

A  few  days  after  the  events  recorded  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  a  committee  of  gentlemen  waited  upon  Miss 
Mansfield  at  her  home.  It  was  the  well-known  President 
Brumblebug  and  the  general  superintendent  of  the  rail 
road  company.  They  had  come  to  otter  congratulations 
for  her  excellent  work  and  to  proffer  her  a  purse  of  gold 
in  appreciation  of  her  service  in  helping  to  bring  about  the 
peaceful  settlement  between  the  company  and  its  em 
ployees.  Ruth  most  proudly  refused  to  accept  the  money, 
saying:  "What  I  have  done  was  for  the  sake  of  my 
people  and  not  for  gain."  They  first  considered  her  re 
fusal  the  result  of  undue  modesty  and  again  urged  her 
acceptance  of  it. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Miss  Mansfield,  "you  do 
not  understand  me;  I  refuse  to  accept  your  gift." 

The  chairman  was  exceedingly  astonished  at  her  atti 
tude  and  asked:  "Will  you  please  explain  to  me,  Miss 
Mansfield,  why  you  do  not  accept  so  handsome  an  offer 
ing?  I  assure  you  it  is  not  presented  as  a  gift,  but  as  a 
just  reward  of  appreciation  for  service,  and  which  we  feel 
you  have  richly  earned." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  can  answer  you.  It  is  this;  I  regard 
the  railroad  monopoly  as  a  heartless  and  cruel  wrong.  It 
not  only  abases  its  employes  and  grinds  the  face  of  the 
poor,  but  rides  in  scarlet  over  the  nobility  and  would  like 
to  wear  the  crown  as  King  of  America.  Were  I  to  accept 
your  offering,  I  should  be  sanctioning  your  course  and 
lending  my  influence  to  the  side  of  wrong.  I  regard," 


294  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

said  the  noble  girl,  "the  whole  system  as  a  dangerous 
menace  to  our  country  and  a  blight  upon  our  rising  re 
public." 

"Then,"  said  the  man,  "your  intercession  was  not  done 
in  our  behalf,  nor  through  any  sense  of  honor  or  respect 
for  the  corporation,  but  from  some  other  motive?" 

"You  are  quite  right,  sir,"  said  Ruth.  "I  labored  for 
other  motive.  My  whole  and  only  thought  was  in  the 
interests  of  labor.  Every  body  of  organized  power,  like 
the  physical  part  of  man,  must  have  brains  as  well  as 
heart  and  muscle  if  it  would  be  evenly  balanced.  Our 
workingmen  had  the  heart  and  physical  force  that  day, 
but  lacked  the  mental  power.  Had  they  this,  they  would 
not  have  acted  rashly  as  they  did.  It  was  only  a  matter 
of  education  after  all.  These  men  have  been  given  a 
lesson  which  will  cause  them  to  think  wisely  in  the  future 
before  another  step  is  taken.  Such  a  course  is  disastrous 
to  themselves  and  families.  But  be  assured,  President 
Brumblebug,  that  the  difficulty  with  the  workingmen  is 
not  at  an  end,  and  I  warn  your  company  to  draw  a  looser 
rein  over  your  employes  if  they  wish  to  avert  a  fiercer 
storm  which  is  just  at  hand.  There  is  to  be  a  general 
round-up  by  and  by  and  the  chains  that  now  bind  the 
workingmen  in  the  power  of  monopoly  will,  ere  long, 
clank  at  the  very  heels  of  Capital."^ 

They  looked  at  her  with  astonishment  and  asked:  "At 
what  do  you  hint,  Miss  Mansfield?  Have  those  fellows 
any  organized  plan  of  action  whereby  they  can  make  such 
power  felt?" 

"Most  certainly  they  have,  sir.  A  strong  and  resistless 
organization  in  the  form  of  a  political  party  which  stands 
pledged  to-day  in  the  interests  of  labor.  This  body  of  men 
will  first  try  their  ballots  against  the  railroad  monopoly 
of  America,  and  if  they  do  not  find  this  method  effectual, 


PRESIDENT  BRUMBLEBUG.  295 

they  will  try  their  bullets/'  The  man  looked  angry. 
"Then,  madam,  you  would  give  me  to  understand  that 
you,  as  well  as  they5  are  an  enemy  to  the  corporation/' 

"Not  in  any  personal  sense,  President  Brumblebug; 
but  an  enemy  to  that  spirit  which  thirsts  after  power  that 
it  may  arrest  freedom  and  make  slaves  of  men ;  an  enemy 
to  that  power  which  can  take  into  its  embrace  a  thing  so 
loathsome  and  evil  as  the  liquor  traffic." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  replied  that  august  per 
sonage,  "we  are  not  in  any  sense  allied  to  the  traffic." 

"Indeed,"  replied  Miss  Mansfield,  "can  it  be  possible 
that  you  do  not  know  that  there  is  a  saloon  in  almost 
every  railroad  depot  in  California?  If  you  do  not  wish 
to  bear  the  odium  of  that  traffic,  you  had  better  close  out 
your  saloons.  Otherwise  I  shall  feel  perfectly  free  to 
speak  of  you  as  in  league  with  the  blackest  crime  that 
ever  cursed  a  nation." 

President  Brumblebug,  well  versed  in  the  science  of 
politeness,  for  a  moment  forgot  his  ethics,  and  said:  "I 
presume,  Miss  Mansfield,  that  you  belong  to  that  set  of 
religious  cranks  who  are  making  the  city  rife  with  their 
howls  about  temperance?" 

"I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  do,  sir.  Would  you  criticize 
my  religious  career?" 

"Well,  n-no,  madam;  I  don't  know  your  tactics  well 
enough  to  judge  of  their  merit  My  time  is  spent  in  busi 
ness.  Religion  will  do  for  those  who  have  not  brains 
enough  for  business." 

What  an  auspicious  moment!  Ruth's  hand  rested 
upon  her  Bible,  which  lay  on  the  center  table.  Opening 
to  Revelations,  she  read  from  the  third  chapter  and  sev 
enteenth  verse:  "Because  thoti  sayeth  I  am  rich  and  in 
creased  with  goods  and  have  need  of  nothing,  and  know- 
eth  not  that  thou  art  wretched  and  miserable  and  poor 


29S  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

and  blind  and  naked,  I  counsel  thee  to  buy  gold  tried  in 
the  fire  that  thou  mayest  be  rich,  and  white  raiment  that 
thou  mayest  be  clothed  and  that  shame  of  thy  nakedness 
do  not  appear,  and  anoint  thy  eyes  with  eye  salve  that 
'thou  mayest  see." 

The  man  rose  to  go ;  he  evidently  was  not  pleased  with 
Miss  Mansfield;  and  his  disappointment  was  plainly  de 
picted  upon  his  countenance. 

Standing  with  his  hat  in  hand,  he  said:  "I  am  sorry, 
madam,  not  to  have  left  this  purse  with  you,  but  perhaps 
you  can  suggest  a  place  where  it  may  be  bestowed  to  do 
good." 

"Yes,"  replied  Ruth,  "I  would  be  glad  to  have  you  di 
vide  it  among  the  men  in  your  employ  who  are  working 
at  starvation  wages.  No  doubt  they  will  be  glad  of  it  for 
the  comfort  of  their  families." 

The  gentlemen  bowed  themselves  out,  carrying  a  crest 
fallen  spirit  such  as  the  poor  have  sometimes  felt  when 
rebuffed.  And  as  they  passed  around  the  corner  Ruth 
heard  President  Brumblebug  remark  to  his  superintend 
ent:  "Strange  woman  that!  Thunder  and  lightning! 
She  is  a  whole  cyclone  of  enthusiasm!  What  an  acces 
sion  she  would  be  to  the  business  world  if  her  bent  was 
only  that  way." 

Ruth  closed  the  door  and  was  turning  to  enter  her 
private  boudoir  when  she  came  face  to  face  with  Marie, 
who  was  just  convulsed  with  laughter.  She  had  over 
heard  part  of  the  conversation  of  her  friend  as  she  fanned 
the  flames  of  zeal  in  the  interests  of  Labor. 

"Mrs.  Stocklaid!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  "how  came  you 
here?  What  a  start  you  gave  me!" 

"I  came  in  at  the  side  entrance,"  explained  that  lady, 
"and  seeing  you  with  President  Brumblebug,  decided  to 
remain  behind  the  scenes  until  he  had  taken  his  depart- 


PRESIDENT  BRUMBLEBUG.  297 

ure;  but,  dear  me,  Ruth!  what  an  original  piece  of  hu 
manity  you  are !  Who  would  have  thought  that  a  work 
ing  girl  could  be  possessed  of  such  power  and  have  the 
courage  to  thus  address  those  gentlemen?  Why,  my  dear, 
you  actually  made  the  man  cringe  before  you!" 

"Thank  you,"  said  Ruth,  "for  the  compliment,  but  ere 
long  monopolists  will  not  only  cringe  before  individuals, 
but  they  will  be  made  to  bow  down  to  the  mandates  of  La 
bor.  Wait  until  we  have  had  a  little  more  time  to  educate 
the  ballot  and  we  will  teach  Capital  a  lesson." 

Then  taking  Marie's  face  between  her  hands,  she  im 
printed  a  kiss  upon  her  lips  and  tenderly  said:  "What 
has  brought  you  to  me  this  morning?  Is  it  Polly  Hop 
kins  or  Rose  Sommers,  or  some  other  poor  unfortunate 
that  has  sent  you  out  in  quest  of  a  counselor?" 

"It  is  neither,"  replied  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  "but  I  have  come 
to  break  some  glad  news  to  you.  Earnest  awoke  ra 
tional  this  morning  and  has  asked  to  see  his  wife  and 
son.  Would  you  not  like  to  accompany  us  to  Stockton 
while  I  pay  a  visit  to  my  husband."  Ruth  said  "Yes,  in 
deed,"  and  together  the  two  stepped  abroad  the  train,  ac 
companied  by  little  Earnie,  who  was  never  happier  than 
when  in  company  with  "Auntie  Ruth."  She  in  return 
loved  the  boy  with  a  tender  affection.  It  had  been  a 
cross  to  know  that  the  little  fellow  was  strangely  bereft 
of  a  father's  love. 

She  had  been  thinking  ever  since  Marie  came  that  morn 
ing  what  a  glad  day  to  the  mother  and  child !  Oh,  if  the 
father  could  only  be  restored  to  his  right  mind  and  be 
come  redeemed  from  the  curse  of  drink.  Somehow  she 
had  a  premonition  that  a  better  day  was  coming  to  Marie, 
and  she  said  to  her:  "What  would  you  do,  dear,  if  you 
were  indeed  to  find  Earnest  restored  to  his  right  mind? 
Would  you  at  once  bring  him  to  your  home  in  the  city?" 


238  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

Marie  thought  a  moment,  then  answered:  "I  do  not 
know,  Ruth.  I  think  I  should  feel  much  afraid  of  him 
hereafter  and  I  should  fear  to  live  with  him  again.  I 
wish  I  could  banish  the  memory  of  that  awful  experience 
from  my  mind.  He  certainly  would  have  killed  me  had 
help  not  been  near  at  hand." 

Ruth  took  the  wife's  hand  in  her  own  and  said: 
"Marie,  did  you  ever  think  what  home  would  be  if  Earnest 
were  a  Christian?" 

"Yes,"  she  had  thought,  "but  could  it  ever  be?" 

For  some  time  the  two  sat  in  silence,  and  at  length  she 
spoke:  "Ruth,  tell  me  what  I  can  do  to  bring  my  hus 
band  to  see  aright.  I  have  prayed  for  him  so  long  that  it 
seems  almost  a  helpless  case." 

"  'No  man  cometh  unto  the  Father  except  he  be  drawn.' 
Dear  Marie,  I  will  pray  with  you  that  Earnest  may  be 
saved  from  sin.  God  can  not  only  save  him  from  sin,  but 
will  keep  him  from  being  tempted  above  what  he  is  able 
to  bear." 

At  length  they  arrived  at  the  asylum  and  Earnest  was 
brought  into  the  presence  of  wife  and  child.  .  His  face 
was  pale,  his  step  tremulous,  and  at  first  he  seemed  to  be 
haunted  as  with  shadows,  but  after  a  while  he  grew  at 
ease  and  seemed  quite  his  old,  old  self  again. 

Tenderly  he  pressed  his  wife  to  his  bosom  and  told  her 
how  glad  he  was  to  see  her  and  his  child  again. 

Earnie  climbed  into  his  lap  and  caressed  him  with  his 
baby  hands,  while  his  brown  curls  lay  against  his  papa's 
cheek,  making  a  picture  of  loveliness  such  as  Marie  had 
never  before  beheld — husband  and  son.  She  thought  of 
the  fullness  of  joy  that  might  yet  be  hers  if  God  would 
only  restore  him  to  her  with  a  redeemed  soul  and  a  sane 
mind.  From  the  innermost  depths  of  her  heart  she 
prayed  that  it  might  be  so,  and  that  her  cup  might  be 


PRESIDENT    BRUMBLEBUG.  299 

filled  with  the  sweetness  of  a  husband's  love.  Ruth  then 
entered  the  room  and  beheld  the  happy  group.  Her  heart 
was  also  thrilled  with  pleasure,  for  this  was  the  nearest 
approach  she  had  seen  in  many  a  year  to  the  Earnest 
Stocklaid  she  had  known  in  far-off  Germany.  His  love 
ly  face  and  clear,  intelligent  eye — not  heated  now  with 
rum — were  so  like  the  past.  She  saw  him  as  the  beloved 
husband  of  her  friend  and  she,  too,  paused  for  a  moment 
before  offering  her  hand  to  send  up  a  silent  petition  that 
God  would  restore  him  every  whit  whole.  Ruth  took  his 
hand  in  hers  and  expressed  her  delight  to  find  him  so 
much  improved  and  was  about  to  take  a  seat  in  the  group 
when  the  doctor  came  and  asked  them  to  say  good-bye, 
for  his  patient  must  return  again  to  his  room. 

Marie  begged  that  the  time  be  extended.  The  good 
doctor  smiled  and  said:  "No,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  your  hus 
band  is  yet  ill  and  any  overweariness  would  only  tend  to 
make  him  worse." 

The  loving  wife  clasped  her  arms  about  his  neck  and 
whispered  some  parting  words,  and  then  aloud  she  said: 
"Be  brave,  my  noble  husband.  Ere  long  you  will  be  well 
again;  then  we  shall  have  you  at  home." 

Little  Earnie  clung  to  his  knee.  "Dood-by,  papa;  we'll 
turn  to  see  you  adain,  papa,  we  will." 

The  father  pressed  the  child  to  his  bosom,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  the  boy  realized  what  it  meant  to  have 
a  father's  love.  The  doctor  gently  put  his  hand  upon  Mr. 
Stocklaid's  arm  and  led  him  away  just  as  his  mind  began 
to  wander  again.  This  showed  plainly  that  he  was  far 
from  being  rational.  He  begged  piteously  to  be  allowed 
to  go  home  with  his  wife  and  child,  but  after  much  per 
suasion  was  induced  to  go  with  the  doctor. 

"The  case  is  not  a  hopeless  one,"  said  the  physician 
at  parting  with  Mrs.  Stocklaid.  "It  may  require  weeks, 


300  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

perhaps  months,  before  we  can  pronounce  him  cured,  but 
you  may  hope  for  entire  restoration  of  his  mind." 

It  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  Marie  returned  to  her 
cottage  home.  As  she  meditated  upon  the  interview  with 
her  husband  and  clung  to  the  precious  memory  of  his 
affection,  so  sweet  to  herself  and  darling  son,  she  felt 
that  her  dream  of  the  past  had  returned,  bringing  with 
it  new  hope  and  she  longed  for  her  beloved  companion  as 
never  before.  But  the  heaviness  came  from  the  fear  that 
should  his  sanity  be  restored  rum  would  again  rob  him 
of  his  reason  and  drag  him  down  to  ruin.  What  could 
she  do  to  save  him? 

Marie  Stocklaid  was  a  true  woman,  and  the  love  that 
she  had  once  borne  to  her  husband  had  continually  found 
its  abiding  place  in  her  heart.  Its  dimness  and  her  dead 
ened  sensibilities  had  been  occasioned  from  the  intense 
suffering  she  had  endured  at  his  hands.  But  to-day  her 
perfect  love  for  him,  which  had  been  slumbering,  was 
awakened  with  new  power,  and  Earnest  Stocklaid  was  as 
dear  to  his  wife  as  at  any  previous  time  in  her  life.  She 
began  to  ponder  in  her  heart  what  she  could  do  if  God 
perchance  should  restore  him  to  her  again,  how  she  could 
protect  him  from  the  curse  of  drink?  "Oh,"  she  thought, 
"what  a  happy  home  ours  might  be  if  Earnest  could  only 
be  himself."  While  she  meditated,  little  Earnie  came 
and  put  his  arms  about  her  neck  and  said:  "My  own 
dear  precious  mamma!  I  love  you  and  my  fazzer.  Say, 
mamma,  don't  you  fink  Dod  will  div  our  dear  papa  back 
to  us  by  and  by  all  well?" 

"Yes,  my  little  son,  mamma  does  think  so;  and  if  papa 
was  only  a  Christian  we  would  be  so  happy,  would  we 
not,  Earnie?" 

The  little  fellow  opened  his  big  brown  eyes  and  looked 
most  wonderingly  into  his  mother's  face,  and  then  asked: 


PRESIDENT  BRUMBLEBUG.  301 

"What  tan  make  him  a  Tristian,  mamma,  tan't  you  tell 
him  how?" 

"I  have  told  him,  my  precious  boy,  and  now  it  all  rests 
with  God  and  your  dear  father  whether  he  will  be  a  Chris 
tian  or  not." 

"Well,  mamma,  why  don't  you  ask  Dod  to  make  my 
papa  a  Tristian  then?" 

"I  have  repeatedly  asked  him,  Earnie,  but  somehow 
my  prayers  are  without  avail." 

"Well,  zen,  mamma,  I  will  ask  him;  taus  Dod  will 
surely  hear  a  little  boy." 

And  suited  to  his  word,  the  little  fellow  knelt  down  at 
his  mother's  knee,  clasped  his  chubby  little  hands  together, 
and  lifting  his  lovely  eyes  to  Heaven,  prayed:  "Oh,  Dod! 
Please  make  my  papa  a  Tristian  so  we  tan  be  happy  wis 
him  at  home."  And  the  little  heart,  so  full  of  desire, 
sobbed,  and  Marie  kissed  the  tears  from  his  cheek  and 
said:  "I  am  sure  God  will  hear  your  prayer,  dear  Ear 
nie,  and  we  shall  have  papa  with  us  soon." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE  SCIENCE  OP  GOVERNMENT. 

The  hot  and  troublous  campaign  of  18 —  was  just  draw 
ing  to  a  close.  Many  and  varied  discussions  pertaining 
to  the  science  of  government  were  also  at  a  close,  for 
on  that  day  the  test  was  to  be  made,  and  the  men  oi 
America  were  to  cast  their  ballot  for  the  man  who  was  to 
occupy  the  highest  seat  in  the  nation.  Who  \vould  "get 
there"  was  the  question  to  be  decided. 

Four  strong  tickets  were  in  the  field;  the  Democratic, 
the  Republican,  the  People's  party  and  the  Prohibition 
party  Capital  and  Labor  were  most  vociferously  elec 
tioneering  for  their  candidates,  while  the  Prohibitionists 
were  appealing  to  the  hearts  and  conscience  of  men,  plead 
ing  with  them  to  vote  on  the  side  of  right.  Many  women, 
too,  were  up  in  action.  They  were  challenging  men  to 
vote  for  the  interests  of  home  and  the  children.  Ruth 
was  among  them,  and  in  a  womanly  way  was  asking  men 
to  vote  for  the  enfranchisement  of  women.  She  had  just 
influenced  a  crowd  to  vote  the  People's  ticket  when  Mr. 
Halstead  came  up  and  touched  her  elbow.  He  said: 
"Miss  Mansfield,  I  challenge  you  to  electioneer  for  the 
Prohibition  party.  Anybody  who  can  make  such  an  out 
cry  about  the  liquor  traffic  as  you,  ought  to  labor  to  outlaw 
the  saloon." 

Ruth  looked  him  square  in  the  eye  and  said:  "You, 
Mr.  Halstead,  challenge  the  help  of  a  woman  in  politics! 
I  thought  you  considered  a  woman  in  politics  out  of  her 
sphere.  How  is  it  that  you  can  ask  me  to  work  for  any 
political  party?" 


204  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

The  man  bit  his  lip,  then  at  length  said,  as  a  partial 
evasion  to  the  question :  "Well,  Miss  Mansfield,  you  are 
here  and  working;  why  not  labor  on  the  side  of  right?" 

'That  is  just  what  I  am  doing,  Mr.  Halstead.  Prohi 
bition  of  the  liquor  traffic  is  good  enough  so  far  as  it 
goes,  but  if  you  want  to  strike  a  blow  at  the  root  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  you  must  hew  down  the  body 
and  not  think  to  fell  the  giant  by  cutting  off  his  limbs. 
Why!  Do  you  not  see  what  a  high  hand  monopoly  is 
playing  in  this  game  of  politics?  Votes  have  been  bought 
and  sold  here  to-day  like  merchandise.  Vote  against 
monopoly  and  we  will  have  knocked  the  brains  out  of 
the  thing  and  the  rest  of  the  body  will  adjust  itself  to  the 
right.  Besides,  the  People's  party  will,  ere  long,  we  trust, 
be  the  means  of  giving  woman  the  franchise,  and  that 
to-day  is  the  chiefest  of  our  desires." 

"Yes,  Miss  Mansfield,  you  are  right  about  many  things, 
but  it  is  unwomanly  in  you  to  desire  the  ballot.  We  men 
love  best  to  feel  that  woman  is  willing  to  look  up  to  us 
for  protection." 

"That  sounds  very  pretty,  Mr.  Halstead,  but  man  has 
proven  to  the  gentler  sex  that  his  protection  to  her  is  like 
the  wolf  for  the  lamb.  Man  votes  to  satisfy  his  own  gain. 
Woman  would  vote  for  the  betterment  of  the  people  and 
the  protection  of  the  home.  No,  thank  you,  I  will  work 
for  the  protection  of  Labor,  and  when  it  has  its  right, 
then  woman  will  come  in  for  her  share  of  justice.  Put 
the  ballot  in  the  hand  of  woman  and  woman  will  banish 
the  saloon  and  send  it  hurling  to  the  bottom  of  Hades!" 

Jack  Halstead  smiled  back  at  the  girl  who  had  not  only 
challenged  his  vote,  but  his  love;  but  as  he  was  uncon 
vinced  he  turned  away  and  began  to  shout:  "General 
Bidwell!  Vote  for  General  John  Bidwell  and  the  over 
throw  of  rum!" 


THE   SCIENCE   OF  GOVERNMENT  305 

Many  people  had  gathered  around  as  the  two  discussed 
the  merits  of  their  party,  and  at  the  conclusion  a  shout 
went  up  and  a  multitude  rushed  off  to  the  polls  to  vote 
for  the  protection  of  labor.  Halstead  turned  back  when 
he  saw  Ruth  standing-  alone  and  said  to  her:  'That  was 
not  fair  in  you,  Miss  Mansfield,  when  you  are  just  as 
radically  opposed  to  the  saloon  as  I  can  possibly  be." 

Ruth  smiled  and  said:  "Don't  feel  badly,  Mr.  Hal- 
stead.  Upon  the  science  of  government  we  are  most 
happily  agreed;  our  only  difference  being  in  the  method. 
Why  do  you  Prohibitionists  not  take  up  the  labor  ques 
tion  as  well  as  the  temperance?  According  to  my  way  of 
thinking,  this  question  of  the  people  against  monopoly 
must  be  settled  first;  and  when  that  is  done,  then  the  liquor 
traffic  can  be  swept  away  like  a  thistledown  before  the 
wind.  I  am  making  votes  to-day  for  the  People's  party, 
but  in  four  years  from  now  these  two  great  reforms  will 
stand  united  upon  the  same  platform  and  the  two  great 
issues,  of  the  day,  temperance  and  labor,  will  be  united 
in  the  holy  bond  of  wedlock." 

Halstead  looked  at  her  as  though  a  new  thought  had 
dawned  upon  his  mind,  and  when  he  did  not  reply,  she 
continued:  "Yes,  indeed,  sir,  it  is  to  be;  and  when  the 
wedding  bells  ring  announcing  that  event,  the  morning 
will  have  dawned  when  the  prohibition  of  the  saloon  may 
be  written  upon  the  statute  books  of  America  and  the  just 
demand  of  Labor  ;vill  no  longer  be  ignored." 

Ruth  was  now  a  politician  »n  dead  earnest.  She  meant 
what  she  said.  Just  then  a  nobiVlooking  woman  with 
a  white  ribbon  tied  in  her  buttonhole  rani?  up  and  after 
a  few  words  of  consultation  the  two  started  down  the  street 
on  business  of  great  importance. 

The  law  of  California  distinctly  reads  that  all  saloons 


306  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

shall  be  closed  on  election  day  during  the  time  that  the 
polls  are  open. 

The  brave  president  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U.,  on  going  to 
her  lunch,  took  a  short  cut  to  the  hotel  dining-room, 
where  she  was  to  meet  her  husband.  In  doing  this  she 
passed  through  a  back  entrance  to  a  vacant  store,  and  saw, 
to  her  astonishment,  that  free  rum  was  on  draught. 
Bottles  were  packed  in  ice  and  everybody  was  drinking 
to  his  heart's  content.  The  brave  little  woman  hurried 
on  until  she  came  to  a  policeman  upon  the  beat.  Read 
ing  the  law  for  his  especial  benefit,  she  informed  him  of 
the  offense  and  pointed  out  the  place  of  iniquity,  with  an 
injunction  that  he  had  better  take  care  of  the  offenders. 

At  lunch  she  ate  leisurely  and  related  the  experience  to 
her  husband,  who  was  a  bold  exponent  of  the  temperance 
cause,  and  warmly  sympathized  with  the  aggressive  spirit 
of  his  wife,  encouraging  her  in  the  good  fight  that  she 
was  making. 

Leaving  him  at  his  business  place,  she  sauntered  along, 
leisurely  retracing  her  steps  to  see  if  the  officer  had  done  his 
duty  to  the  "blind  tiger,"  when,  to  her  surprise,  she  found 
it  still  in  full  blast,  and  not  only  men  and  boys  drinking 
and  drunk,  but  children  scarcely  out  of  their  knee  breeches 
were  indulging  with  their  elder  brothers.  She  at  once 
sought  the  officer  and  inquired  why  he  had  not  done  his 
duty.  He  replied:  "I  visited  the  place,  madam,  and 
found  nothing  but  water!  Nothing  but  water!  And 
water  don't  make  men  drunk!" 

She  turned  from  him  with  a  disgusted  look  and  went 
at  once  for  Ruth  and  two  others  to  come  and  help  her 
enforce  the  law.  Entering  the  place  with  her  staff,  the 
brave  leader  of  the  band  said  to  the  man  in  charge :  "To 
whom  does  this  liquor  belong,  sir?" 


THE   SCIENCE  OF  GOVERNMENT.  307 

« I  do  not  know,  madam ;  some  one  has  put  it  here  for 
tlie  use  of  these  thirsty  men." 

The  woman  read  the  law  to  the  gaping  crowd  and  made 
a  vigorous  inquiry  to  know  to  whom  the  liquor  belonged. 
But  as  no  one  could  be  found  who  claimed  the  stuff,  the 
ladies  took  hold  of  the  tub  and  carried  it  out  upon  the 
pavement,  took  out  the  bottles  one  after  another  and  dis 
patched  them  upon  the  stone  pavement  of  the  gutter.  The 
crowd  stood  round  and  glared  down  at  the  dauntless  four. 
They  had  armed  themselves  with  pick  handles  before 
they  came  to  the  place  with  the  expectation  that  they 
might  be  called  upon  to  use  them.  The  men  were  so 
completely  astonished  that  perfect  decorum  was  main 
tained  throughout  the  entire  procedure.  One  man  came 
forward  and  said  to  the  white-ribboners:  "I  advise  you 
women  to  go  home  and  attend  to  your  own  business." 
And  in  reply  one  of  the  courageous  ones  said:  "Thank 
you,  sir,  we  feel  quite  at  home  at  this  business,  and 
especially  feel  it  our  duty  as  good  American  citizens  to 
enforce  the  law  and  protect  our  husbands  and  children 
from  the  contamination  of  rum." 

The  man  slunk  away  and  was  lost  in  the  crowd.  Even 
no  shout  of  derision  went  up  from  the  throats  of  men  less 
brave  than  he. 

The  polls  now  closed  and  the  saloons  that  had  not  all 
day.  in  defiance  of  the  law,  been  open,  now  opened  up 
and  a  regular  pandemonium  reigned  upon  the  streets. 
Many  women  sought  their  homes  through  sheer  fear  of  the 
excited  rabble. 

Men  were  betting  large  sums  of  money  upon  the  possi 
ble  winning  candidate — each  party  being  positive  that  it 
should  gain  the  victory.  Most  eagerly  the  honest-heart 
ed,  as  well  as  the  crafty,  waited  for  the  returns  that  they 
might  know  how  the  election  had  gone.  The  temperance 


308  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

people  held  a  circle  of  prayer  emploring  God  to  overrule 
for  good  and  let  right  rule  the  land. 

It  was  late  next  day  before  the  returns  came  in.  Then 
many  crestfallen  individuals  saw  their  castles,  which  had 
been  built  upon  hope,  fall  to  the  ground.  It  was  said  that 
the  Democratic  party  had  won  the  day. 

Early  that  evening  Mr.  Halstead  called  upon  Ruth 
to  talk  over  the  matter  of  election  and  in  a  measure  soothe 
his  disappointed  spirit  by  sympathizing  with  others  who 
had  also  lost.  He  had  worked  for  the  Prohibition  candi 
date  with  a  faith  that  made  him  sure  of  success.  When 
the  votes  were  counted  and  he  found  that  whisky  had  won 
the  day,  his  disappointment  was  hard  to  bear  and  a  fierce 
spirit  of  bitterness  burned  within  his  heart.  Jack  Hal- 
stead  was  a  man  of  strong  convictions  and  had  been  a 
long  time  in  coming  to  that  point  where  he  felt  it  was 
right  to  vote  the  Prohibition  ticket.  Now  that  he  had 
come  to  believe  it  right  he  was  a  zealous  exponent  of  the 
cause  of  temperance.  He  could  not  see  why  all  good  peo 
ple  in  the  world  should  not  think  as  he  did  and  vote  to 
rid  the  country  of  its  curse.  His  faith  in  man  was  shaken 
and  he  had  begun  to  doubt  that  God's  hand  was  on  the 
side  of  right. 

It  was  while  this  mood  was  upon  him  that  he  had  come 
to  Ruth  and  poured  out  the  thoughts  of  his  heart.  He 
asked  her  to  explain,  if  possible,  why  things  were  so. 
This  was  a  moment  and  an  opportunity  she  had  long 
wanted.  She  felt  that  the  hand  of  God  was  in  the  science 
of  government,  and  to  show  him  why  things  were  so,  she 
began :  "Ever  since  the  founding  of  the  nations,  Mr. 
Halstead,  God  has  been  manifested  in  government,  This 
revolutionary  storm  that  is  just  now  so  madly  sweeping 
over  the  country,  disregarding  the  hearts  and  consciences 
of  men,  is  the  Father's  own  way  of  bringing  about  a  prop- 


THE  SCIENCE  OP  GOVERNMENT.  305 

er  adjustment  of  national  affairs.  Let  me  illustrate,  for 
example.  When  I  was  a  child  living  way  out  on  the 
scenic  banks  of  the  Hudson,  my  father  undertook  one 
time  to  build  an  immense  barn  for  the  storing  of  grain. 
The  women  and  children  of  the  neighborhood  had  gath 
ered  in  great  numbers  to  witness  the  raising  of  the  im 
mense  timbers  that  were  framed  together.  When  the  first 
bent  went  up,  which  was  carried  to  its  place  on  spikes  in 
the  hands  of  men,  the  foreman  stood  back  and  shouted: 
'Heigh,  ho  heigh!'  The  women  and  children  around 
stood  in  breathless  silence,  for  a  man  went  up  on  the  bent. 
Then  another  bent  went  up,  and  yet  another.  When  the 
last  large  bent  was  hoisted  to  its  place  there  were  men 
enough  at  the  top  to  nail  the  purline  plate  solid.  So,  Mr. 
Halstead,  from  this  simile  take  courage.  We  have  got 
one  man  at  the  top,  and  when  the  year  nineteen  hundred 
comes  rolling  in  we  shall  have  men  enough  at  the  top  to 
nail  prohibition  solid;  for  'the  saloon  must  go.' " 

The  heavy  cloud  that  had  hovered  over  Jack  Halstead's 
spirit  vanished,  and  he  cast  about  him  to  find  some  object 
upon  which  he  could  give  noisy  vent  to  the  hurrah  that 
he  felt  within  his  soul.  Catching  up  Ruth's  spool  basket, 
he  sent  the  whole  collection  flying  around  the  room,  while 
he  drummed  a  loud  tattoo  upon  the  table.  "Good!  good! 
Miss  Mansfield!  Praise  the  Lord!  I  will  be  tfoore  to  wel 
come  that  bright  day!" 

"What  a  noisy  fellow  you  are!"  exclaimed  Ruth.  "Just 
see  how  you  have  demoralized  my  work  basket!  Now, 
sir,  you  must  help  me  pick  these  up." 

Jack  was  most  agreeable,  and  together  the  two  soon 
restored  the  basket  to  its  normal  condition,  while  Ruth 
laughed  merrily.  Having  regained  their  equilibrium, 
Ruth  continued:  "America  is  a  chosen  nation — a  God- 
ordained  people  whose  citizens,  from  first  until  nov7,  have 


810  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

been  gathered  from  the  great  family  of  nations  and  appoint 
ed  to  a  special  mission  in  the  world.  That  mission  is  to 
enlighten  the  earth  and  prepare  its  people  for  the  righteous 
reign  of  the  Son  of  God  when  He  shall  finally  come 
and  set  up  His  kingdom  upon  the  earth.  In  the  begin 
ning  America  was  founded  a  Christian  nation;  but  the 
fathers  of  our  people  have  wandered  away  from  the  first 
principle — have  forgotten  God  and  placed  their  affection 
upon  avarice,  gold  and  gain.  In  other  times  when  God's 
people  have  forgotten  Him.  He  has  always  held  in  reserve 
a  heathen  nation  to  come  in  and  drive  out  disobedient 
Israel,  but  in  this  instance  such  a  course  would  be  disas 
trous  to  God's  first  great  plan  of  work  for  America;  and 
He  is  raising  up  woman  to  take  the  reins  of  government 
in  her  own  hands  and  carry  out  God's  thought  for  the 
world  through  America." 

Jack  Halstead's  noble  face  expressed  great  depth  of 
thought  as  he  listened  to  her  words,  which  to  him  seemed 
as  very  prophecy.  Forgetting  dignity  as  his  interest  in 
tensified,  he  pushed  a  hassock  close  up  and  sat  down  at 
her  feet  while  she  continued:  "Man  was  created  the  nat 
ural  protector  of  woman,  hence  his  desire  to  rule  his  own 
house.  The  gentle,  clinging  spirit  of  woman  reaches  out 
to  him  for  support.  But  man,  in  the  majority  of  cases, 
has  forgotten  his  office  work  on  earth,  and  has  grown 
to  think  that  'protect'  ought  to  be  translated  to  mean 
'oppress/  and  has  steeled  his  heart  against  the  wail  of 
women  and  children.  In  his  mad  rush  after  the  almighty 
dollar  he  has  made  himself  walling  to  barter  away  human 
souls  for  the  price  of  rum.  Therefore,  Mr.  Halstead, 
woman's  ballot  has  become  a  necessity  for  the  salvation 
of  the  nation,  and  the  world  depends  upon  this  method, 
which  is  indeed  God-ordained." 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Halstead,  "your  desire  to  see  the  bal- 


THE   SCIENCE   OF  GOVERNMENT.  311 

lot  in  the  hand  of  woman  is  not  born  of  the  thought  that 
man  should  not  be  the  head  of  the  woman?" 

"Oh,  no!"  was  her  reply.  "Every  good  and  true  wom 
an  in  the  world  desires  the  protection  and  support  of  some 
good  man,  and  it  is  the  want  of  that  support  that  has 
forced  woman  to  adopt  this  measure.  Women  must  com 
pel  man  by  the  power  of  the  law  to  make  the  protection 
and  support  of  his  wife  and  family  his  first  thought." 

"I  see  a  tinge  upon  your  cheek,  Mr..Halstead;  do  you 
blush  for  your  own  sex?" 

"Yes;  I  must  confess  you  have  taken  away  my  weapons 
of  warfare,  and  I  give  you  my  promise  henceforth  to  vote 
for  the  enfranchisement  of  woman." 

Ruth's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  she  said:  "Then, 
sir,  we  are  not  divided  upon  a  single  issue." 

"Just  one,  Miss  Mansfield;  you  claim  the  right  to  make 
your  own  choice  in  matrimony." 

Ruth,  who  was  always  beautiful,  never  looked  so  en- 
trancingly  lovely  as  to-night.  She  reached  out  her  hand 
and  put  it  in  his  own  strong  and  powerful  grasp,  and  said : 
"Mr.  Halstead — Jack — do  you  think  that  you  could  love 
and  care  for  me  through  life  as  husband,  protector  and 
friend?" 

Taken  by  surprise,  the  man  looked  into  her  guileless 
face  for  a  moment,  then  gathering  the  import  of  her 
words  replied:  "Ruth,  darling,  may  I  love  you?  Will 
you  marry  me?" 

For  a  moment  her  eyes  were  downcast,  then  pillowing 
her  head  upon  his  breast,  she  said:  "I  love  you,  Jack, 
and  will  trust  my  life  and  happiness  in  your  keeping.  Yes, 
I  will  be  your  wife." 

What  a  reward  for  anxious  waiting!  Jack  Halstead 
gathered  the  precious  being  in  his  arms  and  pressed  her 
cherished  form  to  his  manly  heart  with  such  tenderness 


312 


RUTH  AND  MARIE. 


that  Ruth  could  not  doubt  but  that  her  love  was  returned. 
With  great  desire  had  this  noble  and  good  man  longed 
for  this  hour  to  come  and  yet  had  not  dared  to  press  his 
suit  nor  approach  the  woman  he  so  fondly  loved  lest  he 
be  rejected.  Now  as  he  felt  the  precious  burden  lean  upon 
his  bosom  a  flood  of  happiness  and  holy  joy  such  as  he  had 
never  dreamed  he  could  possess  came  stealing  into  his 
heart  and  he  blessed  God  for  His  most  precious  gift  to 
man — a  woman's  love. 


OUTDOOR    LIFE    IN    CALIFORNIA. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 
ROBBING  A  BREAD-WINNER. 

The  California  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union 
was  holding  a  state  convention.  Marie  Stocklaid,  who 
had  been  a  faithful  worker  ever  since  the  day  she  found 
her  mission  among  the  poor  and  forsaken  of  society,  was 
present  at  a  reception  tendered  to  that  august  body  by 
the  Working  Woman's  Congress  of  the  city  of  Oakland. 
This  reception  was  originated  by  the  State  Superintendent 
of  the  Labor  Department,  Miss  Mahitable  Ann  Grimshaw, 
who  was  zealous  to  bring  the  method  of  work  more  promi 
nently  before  the  state  society.  At  the  same  time  she 
intended  to  give  these  working  girls  an  opportunity  tu 
meet  with  some  of  the  refinement  and  culture  of  the 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union. ' 

At  a  previous  state  convention  many  of  the  women 
had  pledged  themselves  to  earn  one  dollar,  by  manual 
labor,  and  give  it  to  the  state  for  the  furtherance  of  the 
temperance  work. 

A  delightful  programme,  both  musical  and  literary, 
had  been  prepared  for  the  evening,  after  which  every 
woman  must  tell  in  what  manner  she  had  earned  her 
dollar. 

This  was  a  novel  procedure  to  Marie  Stocklaid,  who 
had  never  in  all  her  life  earned  so  much  as  a  copper  cent. 
She  listened  in  wrapt  attention  to  the  various  experiences 
and  enjoyed  the  merriment  with  this  happy  company  of 
ladies  who  had  come  in  numbers  such  as  to  literally  pack 
the  spacious  parlors  at  the  well-known  Chabol  Home. 
Women  from  all  parts  of  the  state  were  there  and  had 


316  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

taken  part  in  earning  the  dollars.  They  had  cooked  and 
sewed,  had  washed  and  sawed,  talked  and  walked,  prayed 
and  plead,  and  all  the  various  avocations  open  to  women 
had  been  utilized  by  these  busy  white-ribboners,  every  one 
of  whom  most  cheerfully  put  her  dollar  into  the  bag  oi" 
the  jolly  state  treasurer,  who  began  to  feel  that  the  so 
ciety  was  growing  rich  as  she  gathered  in  the  reward  for 
honest  labor. 

At  length  one  little  woman,  whom  Marie  knew  to  be  the 
wife  of  a  well-known  capitalist,  was  called  upon  to  relate 
her  experience  as  she  laid  her  silver  piece  upon  the 
treasurer's  table.  "I  earned  this  dollar,"  said  the 
lady,  as  she  held  the  precious  coin  between  her  thumb 
and  finger,  "in  a  new  and  novel  way.  I  employ,  Madam 
President,  a  widow,  who  has  a  family  of  little  children  to 
support,  to  clean  my  windows  once  a  week.  I  formerly 
paid  a  Chinaman  two  dollars  for  doing  the  same  work. 
But  this  woman  is  a  worthy  person  and  offered,  if  I  would 
discharge  the  Chinaman,  to  do  it  for  one  dollar  and  a 
half,  which  I  considered  a  very  good  bargain  indeed. 
Well,  the  way  I  earned  this  dollar,  I  allowed  my  windows 
to  go  unpolished  last  week  and  saved  the  dollar  which  I 
otherwise  should  have  paid  for  labor." 

The  brilliant  little  woman  was  about  to  lay  her  dollar 
upon  the  table  when  Mahitable  Ann  arose.  She  never 
looked  so  tall  and  angular  and  her  nose  never  seemed 
quite  so  long  as  it  did  at  that  propitious  moment.  She 
then  said:  "Madam  President,  I  do  not  see  how  we  can 
accept  this  dollar  from  our  sister.  For,  in  the  first  place, 
she  has  not  earned  it,  and  in  the  second  place  she  has 
degraded  American  labor  by  paying  less  for  it  than  she 
would  pay  a  heathen  Chinee ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  she 
has  robbed  a  poor  widow  of  the  right  to  earn  bread  to  put 
in  the  mouths  of  her  children,  and  will  next  week  put 


ROBBING  A  BREAD-WINNER.  317 

upon  her  the  twice  dirty  windows  to  clean.  I  move  that 
we  decline  to  accept  this  money,  for  it  is  the  price  of 
bread." 

The  hands  of  a  few  went  up  in  favor  of  refusing  this 
money,  while  others  thought  it  all  right.  Mahitable  Ann 
was  invited  to  come  over  for  a  brief  interview  with  the 
reporter  who  was  writing  up  in  detail  the  work  of  these 
excellent  women  of  the  State  Union. 

Marie  had  just  been  introduced  to  Mrs.  Macfarley,  an 
intelligent,  bright-faced  woman,  whose  hair  was  dressed 
in  ringlets  and  who  carried  her  head  on  an  angle  with 
the  moon  as  she  incessantly  smiled  and  talked.  Marie 
enjoyed  the  joke  and  said  to  the  distinguished 
lady:  "Good  for  brave  Miss  Grimshaw!  She,  like  my 
friend  Ruth  Mansfield  never  fails  to  make  a  point  in  the 
interests  of  Labor.  Wish  Ruth  could  have  heard  her 
remarks." 

Mrs.  Macfarley  manifested  some  astonishment  and 
looked  at  Marie  with  a  critical  eye.  At  length  she  said: 
"Do  I  understand  you  to  say,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  that  that 
bold  piece  of  humanity,  Ruth  Mansfield,  is  your  friend?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Marie,  "Miss  Mansfield  is  my  friend 
and  I  love  her  very  much.  She  has  a  dauntless  spirit,  but 
is  only  bold  for  the  right  and  I  admire  her  very  much  for 
it,  Mrs.  Macfarley." 

"Well,"  replied  that  high-headed  lady,  "it  is  all  owing 
to  the  position  one  holds  in  society.  I  suppose  these 
working  women  who  have  tendered  this  reception  to  the 
State  Union  to-night  do,  like  yourself,  admire  Miss  Mans 
field." 

The  lady  eyed  Mrs.  Stocklaid  most  keenly,  then  said: 
"Let me  see,  what  is  your  department  in  the  State  Union?" 

"I  have  not  been  honored  with  a  department,"  said  Mrs. 
Stocklaid.  "I  simply  have  a  mission  and  my  duty  is  to 


318  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

work  for  the  salvation  of  souls  in  the  prison  or  anywhere 
among  the  fallen  or  forsaken  people  of  the  city." 

"Dear  me!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Macfarley,  "and  do  you 
go  into  the  slums  of  the  city  to  look  after  those  wretchea 
people?  I  suppose  it  is  all  as  one  has  been  trained.  You 
see,  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  I  have  always  moved  in  the  highest 
and  wealthiest  circles  of  society;  while  you,  according  to 
your  calling,  have  ever  been  associated  with  the  lower 
classes.  Indeed,  I  do  not  envy  you,  and  hope  you  will  have 
a  pleasant  time  this  evening  in  company  with  this  noble 
sisterhood.  Undoubtedly  you  will  learn  a  great  many 
things  in  this  convention." 

Marie  bit  her  lip  to  prevent  a  smile  \vhich  had  gathered 
as  she  listened  to  this  lady  who  held  herself  in  high  esteem, 
and  appeared  to  be  interested  in  her  general  remarks. 
Just  at  this  moment  Ruth  came  to  the  rescue  and  took  her 
off  to  the  dining-room,  where  refreshments  were  being 
served.  As  she  arose  to  go,  one  of  San  Francisco's  love 
liest  women  took  her  hand  and  said:  "How  do  you  do, 
Mrs.  Stocklaid?  I  am  very  happy  to  see  your  dear  face 
here  with  us  and  to  know  by  your  white  ribbon  that  you 
are  a  member  of  the  Union.  I  have  been  reading  with 
pleasure  of  your  happy  conversion  to  the  temperance 
work  and  bid  you  a  thrice  welcome  into  our  midst." 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  kindly  acknowledged  the  gracious  words 
of  the  lady,  and  as  she  and  Ruth  went  below  the  woman 
took  the  seat  that  Marie  had  left  vacant.  The  brilliant 
Mrs.  Macfarley  at  once  opened  conversation  with  her: 
"I  see  you  are  an  acquaintance  of  the  person  who  has 
just  left  my  side,  and  you  seemed  to  address  her  as  a 
lady  of  some  renown;  do  you  mind  telling  me  something 
about  her?" 

"Why,  no,"  replied  the  lady,  who  had  not  yet  learned 
of  the  bankrupt  condition  of  the  Earnestine  estate,  "I 


ROBBING  A  BREAD-WINNER.  319 

thought  everybody  knew  Mrs.  Stocklaid,  the  daughter 
of  the  late  Judge  Earnestine,  a  man  worth  ten  million 
dollars." 

Mrs.  Macfarley  raised  her  hands  in  awe  and  a  bright 
red  spot  burned  on  either  cheek  as  she  exclaimed:  "Oh. 
is  that  so?" 

At  that  moment  it  was  announced  that  the  gifted 
state  president  would  speak  to  the  ladies,  and  the  con 
versation  was  necessarily  discontinued.  This  delightful 
creature,  Mrs.  Macfarley,  however,  fanned  herself  vigor 
ously,  for  she  discovered  that  the  room  had  suddenly 
grown  too  warm. 

That  lady  was  right  when  she  said:  "You  will  doubt 
less  learn  a  great  many  things  in  this  convention,"  for 
when  the  work  of  the  different  counties  in  the  state  began 
to  be  reported  in  detail  and  the  various  superintendents 
told  of  the  work  attained  through  their  individual  meth 
ods,  Marie  felt  that  a  mine  of  wealth  had  opened  up  to  her 
and  she  joyously  drank  from  its  fullness.  She  felt  that 
the  wisdom  of  these  women  in  council  was  good. 

More  than  eighteen  hundred  years  have  come  and  gone 
since  the  birth  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  and  during  that 
period  never  any  work  had  been  done,  either  religious 
or  political,  that  had  built  up  character  in  women  like  the 
work  of  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union. 

Marie  Stocklaid  was  not  the  first  or  only  one  who  has 
opened  her  eyes  with  astonishment  as  she  noted  the  ad 
vance  made  by  woman  since  the  birth  of  this  organization. 

Marie  sat  through  the  entire  session,  and  each  hour 
she  felt  her  soul  enlarged  and  her  desire  to  enter  into  the 
fullness  of  the  Master's  work  greater  than  ever  before. 
There  was  one  feature,  however,  that  gave  her  deep  con 
cern,  and  that  was  the  absence  of  the  Catholic  sisterhood 
from  the  society.  Here  and  there  was  one,  to  be  sure, 


320  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

but  to  say  that  her  own  church  women  were  identified 
with  this  reform  would  be  a  statement  somewhat  over 
drawn.  Ere  the  close  of  the  convention,  a  strong  con 
viction  had  taken  hold  upon  her  and  she  made  up  her 
mind  that  she  would  approach  and  strive  to  win  her  own 
sect  to  see  the  beauty  of  the  methods  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U. 

"Why,"  she  argued,  "if  this  thing  is  good  for  the 
Protestant  women,  then  surely  it  is  also  good  for  the 
Catholic,  and  I  will  lay  the  matter  heavily  before  them." 

True  to  her  convictions,  on  the  day  following  the  close 
of  the  convention,  she  called  upon  her  priest  and  made 
an  earnest  request  that  he  recommend  to  the  ladies  of 
the  church,  and  especially  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  the  ad 
visability  of  their  becoming  identified  with  this  great  and 
gifted  organization  of  women.  Then,  like  a  good  mis 
sionary  of  the  cross,  she  began  to  make  a  round  of  social 
visits,  calling  upon  the  brightest  and  best  and  asking 
them  to  break  the  chains  that  bound  them  in  clanish  sel 
fishness  and  come  out  of  the  old  rut  and  identify  them 
selves  with  the  true  progress  of  the  age.  She  asked  as 
a  special  favor  of  her  father  confessor  that  he  would  allow 
her  to  call  a  public  meeting,  for  women  only,  in  the  great 
cathedral  that  she  might  appeal  to  them  collectively  to 
become  identified  with  temperance  work  and  take  up  the 
methods  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U.  This  request  was  most  will 
ingly  granted,  with  many  kind  offers  of  assistance  in  the 
blessed  service  she  had  undertaken. 

This  was  a  new  departure  for  these  ladies,  but  God  was 
leading,  and  where  His  hand  moved  and  marked  the  way 
there  His  workers  must  follow.  The  day  appointed  for 
the  meeting  came  at  last,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  Mrs. 
Stocklaid  a  large  assembly  of  women  came  and  listened 
to  the  message  she  had  to  give.  She  had  not  expected 
this  lively  interest  in  the  question  of  temperance  and  was 


ROBBING  A  BREAD-WINNER.  321 

wholly  unprepared  to  speak  for  the  edification  of  so 
large  and  intelligent  a  body  as  appeared  before  her.  But 
as  she  looked  into  their  earnest  faces  and  weighed  the 
importance  of  the  hour,  she  lifted  her  heart  to  God  and 
asked  that  He  would  give  her  a  message  for  them,  her 
beloved  sisters  in  the  Lord.  While  there  upon  her  knees 
something  told  her  to  give  them  the  simple  experience 
of  her  life  along  the  line  of  temperance  and  tell  them  why 
she  had  sought  their  assistance  in  the  great  battle  of  the 
right  against  the  wrong.  Then,  after  a  few  introductory 
remarks,  she  related  her  experience  from  the  time  of  her 
earliest  remebrance.  She  told  them  how  she  had  sinned 
and  suffered  because  of  the  use  and  the  curse  of  the  wine 
cup.  She  told  how  her  proud  spirit  had  kept  her  from 
yielding  to  the  entreaties  of  her  maid,  what  the  result  of 
repeated  indulgence  in  the  use  of  wme  had  been,  the 
wretched  life  of  her  husband,  who  even  at  that  moment 
was  among  the  insane.  She  told  of  the  loss  of  her  fortune, 
of  the  blight  upon  her  darling  boy,  and  closed  with  a 
strong  appeal  for  the  women  to  come  with  her  into  the 
Temperance  Union.  She  asked  them  to  wear  the  white 
ribbon  as  an  emblem  of  purity  and  fidelity  to  God. 

"Beloved  sisters,  it  is  not  I  who  calls,  but  the  Son  of 
God,  who  is  longing  for  the  time  to  come  when  He  may 
come  upon  the  earth  and  set  His  kingdom  among  men. 
Come,  dear  ones,  you  are  this  day  chosen  to  enter  into 
the  great  work  of  temperance  reform." 

She  closed  her  remarks,  and  then  Father  Hachilah, 
who  was  there,  blessed  the  white  ribbon,  and  said:  "May 
God  hasten  the  day  when  those  who  wear  this  emblem  of 
purity  may  stand  triumphant  in  power,  having  slain  the 
rum  fiend." 

The  total  abstinence  pledge  was  then  offered  and  a 
great  host  of  women  knelt  at  the  feet  of  their  father 


322  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

confessor  and  promised  to  forever  abstain  from  the  use 
of  intoxicants  as  a  beverage,  while  the  white  ribbon  knot 
was  tied  upon  their  breast. 

What  a  day  of  triumph  this  was  to  Marie  Stocklaid, 
who  knelt  humbly  and  rendered  thanks  unto  Him  for  the 
honor  and  blessing  bestowed  upon  her  feeble  efforts. 

How  tenderly  the  Apostle  spoke  when  he  said:  "For 
some  when  they  had  heard,  did  provoke;  howbeit  not  all," 
were  followers  in  the  true  way.  Thus  Marie  had  found 
it  with  her  sisterhood.  Many  were  glad  to  come  up  high 
er  and  imbibe  the  true  spirit  of  this  progressive  age, 
while  others  preferred  to  lend  their  influence  as  they  had 
in  the  past.  Thus  it  was,  is,  and  ever  will  be. 

Turning*  from  the  church,  Marie  was  about  to  step  upon 
the  car  when  a  poor,  ignorant  woman  came  to  her  and 
said:  "Indade,  mum,  me  heart  is  heavy  for  this  day's 
wurick.  Whoever  thought  that  Bridget  McNinny  would 
live  to  see  the  day  that  a  Protestant  snare  would  be  set  in 
me  own  church?" 

Marie  looked  pleasantly  into  the  poor  creature's  face, 
and  shaking  her  work-stained  hand,  replied:  "Aly  pre 
cious  sister,  this  is  not  a  snare  and  a  delusion,  as  you 
think,  but  a  call  from  God  for  our  dear  Catholic  women 
to  come  out  and  meet  the  Lord  in  His  work  of  saving  His 
children." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  the  woman.  "Don't  ye  be  afther  put- 
tin'  yer  unhowly  hand  on  me!  Ah,  sure,  mum,  and  I'd 
like  to  have  read  your  autodafe  long  before  ye  brought 
sacrilege  into  the  house  of  me  God.  May  the  blessed 
Virgin  protect  us  from  the  likes  of  ye!" 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  smiled  pitifully  back  at  the  woman  and 
said:  "Poor  dear  sister,  I  suppose  you  are  living  up  to 
the  highest  light  you  are  capable  of  receiving,  but  before 
you  can  have  perfect  absolution  from  your  sins,  you  must 


ROBBING  A  BREAD-WINNER. 


323 


learn  that  one  of  the  most  perfect  virtues  in  Christ  is 
'charity.'  So,  come  and  learn  to  love  'man,  whom  you 
have  seen,'  then  you  may  claim  perfection  in  God,  'whom 
you  have  not  seen,'  then  you  will  gladly  enter  into  the 
work  that  is  given  to  the  hand  of  woman.  Go  your  way, 
my  poor  misguided  sister,  but  remember  that  I  am  pray 
ing  that  the  blessed  Savior  of  souls  will  enlighten  your  un 
derstanding  of  truth  and  help  you." 

So  saying,  Mrs.  Stocklaid  stepped  upon  the  car  to  re 
turn  to  her  home,  and  as  she  was  carried  away  she  heard 
the  woman  saying:  "May  the  howly  saints  guard  us 
from  the  snares  of  Satan."  As  Marie  was  borne  onward 
she  prayed  that  "the  general  assembly  and  the  church  of 
the  first  born,  which  are  written  in  Heaven,  and  God,  the 
judge  of  all,  and  the  spirit  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and 
the  innumerable  company  of  angels"  would  come  from  the 
Heavenly  Jerusalem  and  lend  their  assistance  to  the 
woman  of  earth  to  teach  bigotry  and  ignorance  th£  way 
of  righteousness  and  truth. 


THE    SECOND    PRETTIEST    HOME    AT    THE    VILLA. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

SORROWS  SANCTIFIED. 

As  Marie  Stocklaid  took  her  seat  upon  the  cable  car 
to  return  to  her  home  and  her  little  son  she  was  meditat 
ing  upon  the  goodness  of  God  and  thought  what  He  had 
done  for  her.  She  had  not  pondered  much  about  the 
true  conversion  of  a  soul  to  Christ  and  the  meaning  of  a 
regenerated  heart,  but  this  day  she  was  thinking  of  the 
wonderful  change  in  her  life  and  was  asking  herself  to 
whom  she  could  attribute  the  deep  work  of  grace  in  her 
own  heart.  Could  she  give^the  credit  to  Ruth,  who  had 
gradually  made  her  feel  the  real  truths  of  practical  Chris 
tianity? 

No,  she  recognized  that  Ruth  had  been  a  great  help 
to  her  in  many  ways,  but  it  was  not  she  who  had  put 
that  wonderful  peace  in  her  heart. 

Was  it  the  good  Sisters  of  Charity  who  had  so  skill 
fully  taught  her  the  doctrine?  "No,"  she  said.  "It  was 
not  their  teachings." 

She  did  not  underestimate  the  instruction  she  had  re 
ceived  from  these  sources,  for  she  felt  that  the  great 
fundamental  truths  of  the  Bible  had  been  deftly  drilled  into 
her  memory,  and  that  they  were  good  and  all  necessary 
to  make  her  strong  in  the  faith.  But  she  was  persuaded 
there  was  something  in  her  heart  that  had  not  been  put 
there  by  human  beings.  She  felt  it  was  the  gift  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  She  could  testify  to  a  true  conversion,  and 
felt  she  could  tell  the  very  moment  when  the  blessing  was 
given.  She  knew,  too,  from  that  time  her  heart  was 
changed.  Her  old  hot  temper,  which  had  given  herself 


326  RUTH  AND  MARIE 

and  her  loved  ones  so  much  trouble  in  the  past,  was 
transformed  into  a  patient  spirit  of  zeal  for  the  Master. 
The  things  that  she  had  once  loved  she  now  disliked,  and 
the  things  that  she  now  disliked  she  once  loved.  To-day, 
above  all  other  days,  she  felt  more  and  more  a  fullness 
of  joy  in  her  heart. 

Arriving  at  home,  little  Earnie  came  flying  to  the  door 
for  a  kiss,  then  holding  up  a  white  messenger  that  the 
postman  had  left,  he  exclaimed:  "Here,  mamma,  is  a 
letter;  dess  its  from  our  darlin'  papa.  Turn,  read  it 
twick,  mamma,  tause  I  want  to  know  when  our  papa's 
tumin'  home." 

Marie  tore  open  the  envelope1  and  found  it  to  contain 
two  messages,  one  from  the  doctor  at  the  asylum  and  the 
other  from  her  husband.     The  doctor  said: 
"Dear  Madam: 

"Your  husband,  Earnest  Stocklaid,  has  to-day  been 
adjudged  entirely  sane,  and  is  now  ready  at  any  time  to 
return  home." 

She  read  the  letter  again,  and  this  time  to  little  Earnie, 
who  listened  with  wrapt  attention,  his  face  expressing  his 
joy.  His  happy  and  noisy  demonstrations  were  most 
amusing  to  his  mother,  who  laughed  until  the  tears  ran 
down  her  cheeks.  To  witness  the  child's  pranks  as  he 
gave  vent  to  the  feelings  of  his  heart  was  beautiful  to  see. 
At  last,  when  he  had  demonstrated  to  the  heighth  and 
depth  of  his  childish  capacity,  he  came  back  to  his  mother's 
knee.  "Now  mamma,  read  the  ozzer  one  and  see  what 
our  papa  has  to  say." 

Marie  then  read  aloud  to  him: 
"My  Darling  Wife  and  Son: 

"At  last  the  good  doctor  has  pronounced  me  cured.  I 
am  at  liberty  to  come1  to  you  at  any  time.  I  could  come 
alone,  but  I  greatly  desire  that  you  come  and  take  me 


SORROWS  SANCTIFIED.  327 

home  with  you.  The  outer  world  seems  strange  to  me 
after  so  long  an  illness." 

Marie  had  been  expecting  this  letter,  for  she  knew  that 
her  husba*nd  would  soon  be  restored.  She  made  up  her 
mind  that  she  would  not  bring  him  into  San  Francisco, 
where  the  very  air  was  rife  with  temptation,  but  decided 
instead  to  make  Ranch  Earnestine  her  future  home.  She 
had  often  said  out  there  Earnest  will  at  least  be  spared 
the  temptation  of  passing  a  saloon  every  time  he  turns. 
Here  one  is  not  safe  to  breathe  the  free  air  of  Heaven 
even,  it  is  so  full  of  contamination.  But  to  make  up  her 
mind  to  go  into  the  country  to  spend  the  remainder  of 
her  life  after  all  her  years  in  the  city  was  a  trial.  For  her 
husband's  sake,  though,  she  was  willing  to  do  anything. 
What  she  wanted  was  to  save  him  from  the  curse  of  rum. 

For  several  weeks  the  country  home  had  been  under 
going  repairs.  Everything  possible  was  being  clone  for 
the  occupants  who  were  coming  there  to  make  this  home 
their  habitation.  The  working  people  at  Ranch  Earn 
estine  were  delighted  beyond  measure  at  the  prospect  of 
having  their  benefactress  come  and  dwell  in  their  midst. 

Gretchen  was  overjoyed.  She  hoped  that  under  the 
benign  influence  of  Mrs.  Stocklaid  a  better  class  of  morals 
could  be  instilled  into  the  homes  of  the  community  and 
much  good  accomplished  among  the  young. 

Of  late  Marie  had  seen  but  little  of  Ruth,  Most  of  the 
time  she  was  out  of  the  city  and  laboring  in  the  various 
states  of  the  Pacific  slope.  Her  influence  was  great  and 
her  services  in  growing  demand.  Now,  though  that 
Marie  had  decided  to  leave  the  city  and  take  Mr.  Stock- 
laid  direct  to  the  ranch  instead  of  bringing  him  to  San 
Francisco,  she  had  a  desire  to  see  the  girl  and  tell  her  all 
about  her  plans. 


328  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

She  knew  that  Ruth  was  now  at  home,  so  she  dis 
patched  Jeanetta  with  a  hastily  written  note  inviting  Ruth 
to  come  and  spend  the  evening  with  her.  On  the  mor 
row  she  was  going  to  take  her  departure. 

As  yet  Aunt  Langsford  was  entirely  ignorant  of  her 
plans  for  the  future.  She  did  not  know  whether  the  dear 
old  lady,  who  was  growing  feeble,  would  like  to  spend 
the  rest  of  her  days  in  a  country  home.  She  dreaded 
to  mention  the  fact  to  her,  but  during  Jeanetta's  absence 
she  went  to  her  room  and  said:  "Aunt  Emile,  something 
new  has  come  to  pass  in  the  world  and  I  have  come  to 
tell  you  all  about  it;  would  you  like  to  hear?" 

"Yes,  dearie,  if  it  is  something  pleasant.  But  some 
how  in  the  last  few  years  of  your  life  the  new  things  that 
you  have  had  to  tell  have  always  been  the  sorrowful 
things  and  I  shrink  from  hearing  them." 

Marie  patted  the  dear  old  cheek  that  was  not  so  round 
as  it  was  fifteen  years  before  and  said:  "But  this,  Aunt 
Langsford,  is  one  of  the  pleasant  things  that  you  will  be 
glad  to  know.  Earnest  has  entirely  recovered  his  mind 
and  is  coming  home  to  see  us  again." 

Marie  waited  for  the  old  lady  to  express  her  joy,  but 
when  she  did  not  reply  her  niece  said:  "Why,  auntie, 
you  don't  act  a  bit  glad.  I  thought  you  would  be  the 
happiest  one  of  us  all.  How  is  it  that  you  do  not  rejoice? 
You  always  liked  Earnest." 

"So  I  did,  Marie,  and  I  like  him  still,  but  my  fear  of 
these  dreadful  saloons  in  San  Francisco  and  the  tempta 
tions  to  which  he  will  be  exposed  make  me  wish  him  to 
remain  in  the  asylum.  He  is  safe  there  and  you  can  be 
happy  in  his  security." 

"Viewing  it  from  that  standpoint,  Aunt  Langsford, 
you  are  quite  right,  but  you  know  we  are  not  obliged  to 


SORROWS  SANCTIFIED.  329 

remain  in  San  Francisco.  I  have  decided  to  go  to  Ranch 
Earnestine  to  spend  the  rest  of  my  days  with  my  husband, 
and  we  will  make  our  departure  to-morrow." 

Aunt  Langsford  opened  her  eyes  in  astonishment. 

"Well,  Marie,  I  should  think  that  something  new  under 
the  sun  had  come  to  pass!  And  so  you  are  to  leave  the 
city?" 

'•Yes,  Aunt  Emile;  will  you  accompany  us?  Do  you 
think  you  could  be  happy  in  the  country?" 

"Yes,  Marie,  anywhere,  only  so  I  may  rest  under  the 
influence  of  your  sweet  spirit.  Have  you  never  thought, 
Marie,  of  what  a  change  has  come  over  you  in  these 
last  years?  That  old  hot  temper  of  yours  that  used  to 
be  such  a  horror  to  us  all,  what  has  become  of  it,  dearie? 
You  are  so  sweet  now  all  the  day." 

Marie  embraced  the  affectionate  old  lady  and  replied: 
"I  have  it  still,  Aunt  Langsford,  only  the  spirit  of  the 
Lord  now  holds  sway  in  my  heart.  I  have  been  converted 
and  the  old  hot  temper  has  been  transformed  into  a  burn 
ing  spirit  of  zeal  to  be  used  in  His  own  special  service. 
The  temper  is  sanctified,  that  is  all." 

Then  taking  the  wrinkled  old  hand  in  her  own,  she 
continued:  "Do  you  know,  Aunt  Langsford,  since  the 
Lord  has  given  me  a  little  child  all  my  own  to  train,  I 
have  found  out  what  was  wrong  with  his  mother  when 
she  was  a  little  girl?  It  was  a  mother's  love  that  could 
have  healed  my  naughty  spirit.  Earnie  would  be  naughty, 
too,  only  for  my  love.  I  am  so  glad  God  gave  me  that 
little  boy." 

"All  but  his  blemishes,  Marie." 

"No,  Aunt  Langsford,  I  would  have  him  just  as  he 
is  for  his  mother's  sake;  but  for  the  boy's  sake  I  would 
that  his  body  were  perfect.  God  knew  best  when  He 
made  him  so.  Yes,  He  knew  what  would  be  the  best 


330  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

discipline  for  my  son.  At  first  my  spirit  rebelled  against 
what  seemed  to  be  a  cruel  hand  of  fate,  but  in  these  last 
years  I  have  grown  to  think  that  things  don't  come  by 
chance.  God  has  a  purpose  in  all  that  He  does,  and  has 
He  not  said:  The  wrath  of  God  shall  be  made  to  praise 
God?'  Earnie's  deformity  has  been  my  greatest  cross. 
It  was  the  wrath  of  man  that  caused  God  to  make  him 
so,  and  one  day  while  hugging  that  cross  to  my.  bosom 
I  found  it  to  be  a  crown.  Sorrow  sanctified,  Aunt  Emile, 
is  the  reward  of  perfect  love." 

At  that  moment  Jeanetta  returned,  bringing  Earnie 
with  his  "Auntie  Ruth."  Marie  arose  to  greet  them  and 
was  struck  with  something  in  Ruth's  face  that  she  had 
never  seen  before. 

Kissing  her  ruby  lips,  she  led  her  away  to  her  own 
room,  and  looking  up  into  her  tell-tale  eyes,  said :  "Ruth, 
dear,  what  has  happened  to  you?  I  see  a  mellowness  in 
your  soul  that  has  never  rested  upon  you  before.  What 
is  it  that  has  made  your  spirit  bloom  out  in  such  perfec 
tion?" 

Ruth  took  her  friend's  sweet  face  between  her  hands, 
and  looking  into  the  liquid  depths  of  her  tender  blue  eyes, 
said:  "Can't  you  guess,  Marie?" 

Mrs.  Stocklaid  caught  the  idealistic  devotion  written 
in  the  girl's  face  and  replied:  "Yes,  dear,  it  is  love! 
Then,  after  a  moment,  as  Ruth  did  not  reply,  Marie  no 
ticed  her  effusive  spirit,  and  repeated:  "Ruth,  it  is  true? 
Have  you  finally  made  that  proposal  of  marriage  and 
been  accepted?" 

Ruth  blushed  crimson  and  replied:  "Yes,  Marie,  and 
the  dearest  man  beneath  the  sun  has  promised  to  love, 
protect  and  'obey  me'  as  long  as  we  two  shall  live.  The 
day  is  not  far  distant  when  I  shall  become  the  wife  of 
Jack  Halstead." 


SORROWS  SANCTIFIED.  331 

Marie  gathered  her  to  her  bosom  and  joyously  ex 
claimed  :  "You  precious  girl !  So  dear  old  Jack  is  to  be 
the  happy  man!  How  glad  I  am!  He  and  I,  Ruth,  were 
playmates  together,  and  among  all  the  men  in  the  world 
he  would  have  been  my  choice  for  you  as  a  husband. 

''So  your  troth  is  plighted.  You  are  to  become  a  wife? 
Well,  Ruth  dear,  may  God  bless  and  give  you  'a  white  life 
for  two,'  and  may  your  cup  be  filled  to  overflowing  with 
that  perfect  bliss  which  you  deserve  to  enjoy!" 

Then  came  Earnie  and  climbed  into  Ruth's  lap  and 
told  her  the  glad  news  of  his  papa's  recovery.  His  baby 
eyes  expressed  all  the  joy  he  felt  when  he  said:  "Auntie 
Ruth,  just  fink  how  glad  I  will  be  to  have  a  fazzer  like 
ozzer  boys!'' 

Marie  broke  the  news  of  their  intended  departure  on 
the  morrow  and  told  how  she  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  bid  farewell  to  the  city.  How  she  had  decided  they 
should  spend  the  rest  of  their  days  sojourning  at  Ranch 
Earnestine. 

Ruth  thought  her  friend  wise  and  commended  her  spirit 
of  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  her  husband  and  boy. 

Later  on  Jack  came  for  Ruth  and  spent  the  evening 
with  the  ladies  to  add  his  approval  to  the  course  she  was 
pursuing.  He  said  to  Marie:  "You  will  find  a  delight 
ful  home  at  Ranch  Earnestine,  and  the  people  there  are 
much  improved  in  morals  since  it  has  been  a  temperance 
community." 

How  truly  God's  hand  doth  lead  His  own,  and  how 
easv  the  pathway  that  has  first  had  God's  approval  of  its 
.*7urse!  Marie  felt  that  she  was  doing  right;  and  though 
<  cost  her  a  great  sacrifice,  yet  she  counted  it  all  joy  to  be 
led  in  the  way  of  duty  for  Earnest's  sake.  She  had  never 
been  brought  into  concourse  with  the  plain  country  people, 
and  knew  nothing  of  that  society,  or  what  she  might  do 


332  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

to  make  them  better  or  happier,  yet  she  had  already  set 
in  order  a  train  of  thoughts  which,  when  developed, 
would  make  her  loved  among  them. 

Unfolding  her  plans  to  Ruth  and  Mr.  Halstead,  she 
told  how  she  hoped  to  make  herself  a  leader  and  a  power 
for  poor  among  them.  She  also  talked  of  her  future  with 
Earnest  and  expressed  a  desire  that  he  might  become  a 
Christian  and  through  the  power  of  Jesus  be  saved,  not 
only  from  drink,  but  from  his  sins. 

They  knelt  in  prayer,  while  all  three  earnestly  prayed 
for  the  salvation  of  a  soul.  Arising  from  their  knees, 
Marie  quoted  from  Matthew:  "If  two  of  you  shall  agree 
on  earth  as  touching  anything  that  they  shall  ask,  it  shall 
be  done  for  them  of  my  Father  which  is  in  Heaven." 

"Thank  God!"  said  she,  "that  we  are  agreed  in  our 
desire  for  his  soul.  So  let  us  have  faith  to  claim  this 
promise,  and  Earnest  Stocklaid,  my  beloved  husband, 
shall  indeed  find  his  Redeemer." 

That  evening  was  very  profitably  spent,  and  when,  at 
a  late  hour,  they  said  good-night,  Marie  gave  them  a  press 
ing  invitation  to  pay  her  an  early  visit  at  her  country 
place  and  enjoy  the  good  things  of  the  land. 

Jack  pressed  her  hand  at  parting,  and  with  a  twinkle 
of  merriment  at  the  memory  of  by-gones,  replied:  "Yes, 
the  fruit  and  such  ills;  but  no  wine  at  the  Ranch 
Earnestine." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  DRUNKARD  REDEEMED. 

Leaving  Marie  as  she  retired  to  her  peaceful  couch 
full  of  faith  and  resting  on  the  promises  of  God,  we  will 
look  in  upon  Earnest  Stocklaid  as  he  is  spending  his  last 
evening  at  the  asylum. 

Retiring  from  the  music  room,  where  one  of  the  in 
mates  had  sung,  over  and  over  again, 

"Jesus  lover  of  my  soul,  let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll,  while  the  tempest  still  is  nigh; 
Hide,  me,  oh,  my  Savior,  hide,  till  the  storm  of  life  is  past, 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide,  oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last," 

It  was  the  first  time  in  Earnest  Stocklaid's  life  that  he 
had  ever  felt  a  drawing  toward  God  or  a  desire  for  His 
sheltering  love.  As  he  sat  there  by  his  bedside  that  night 
he  was  most  intensely  drawn  toward  the  future.  What 
the  trouble  in  his  heart  was  he  could  not  tell.  He  seemed 
to  see  the  wild  eyes  of  the  maniac  as  she  sang,  and  the 
great  mellowness  that  overspread  her  countenance  when 
she  came  to  the  words : 

"Plenteous  £race  with  Thee  is  found,  grace  to  cover  all  my  sins." 

He  paused  with  downcast  eyes  and  thought,  "What 
were  his  sins?  He  again  asked  himself  the  question,  ''Had 
he  ever  committed  a  sin?  Done  anything  for  which  he 
needed  the  covering  of  grace?"  He  began  to  look  back 
over  his  life  and  to  recount  his  misdeeds.  The  innocency 
of  his  childhood  came  back  like  a  far-away  dream.  He 
saw  himself  once  more  a  little  boy  kneeling  by  his  mother's 
knee  saying  the  childish  prayer  she  had  taught  him.  By 
and  by  as  memory V  wheel  turned  round  he  was  brought 


336  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

face  to  face  with  his  first  mistake.  He  saw  it  clearly  now 
and  knew  that  it  was  sin.  Then  he  came  down  the  years 
of  .his  life  until  his  misdeeds  were  piled  up  mountain 
high  before  him.  He  thought  how  he  was,  on  the  mor 
row,  to  go  out  again  into  the  world.  He  knew  tempta 
tions  would  meet  him  on  every  side.  Would  he 
have  power  enough  to  resist  them?  It  was  an  earnest 
question  that  Earnest  Stocklaid  was  asking  himself,  and 
he  could  not  answer. 

"Other  refuge  have  I  none,"  came  like  a  wearied  strain 
as  the  maniac  still  sang.  Earnest  Stocklaid  fell  upon  his 
face  and  repeated  from  out  the  depths  of  his  heart:  "Other 
refuge  have  I  none!" 

Then  came  the  desire  for  salvation  and  a  penitent's 
plea  for  God's  grace  to  cover  all  his  sins. 

On  his  knees  he  waited  and  plead  for  salvation. 

"Thou,  oh  Christ,  art  all  I  want,", came  like  the  plead 
ing  of  his  own  soul  from  the  woman's  lips.  He  heard 
the  warden  come  and  lead  her,  the  singer,  the  maniac, 
away  to  her  room.  Still  he  knelt  there  before  his  bed 
pleading  and  waiting  for  God's  answer.  At  last  the  an- 
swer  came  and  he  arose  from  his  knees.  He  felt  he  was 
washed  by  the  Lamb,  and  he  shouted:  "Blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost." 

For  a  long  time  that  night  he  lay  upon  his  bed  and 
thought.  His  thoughts  went  out  in  quest  of  his  wife 
and  child,  whom  he  knew  were  to  meet  him  on  the  mor 
row — the  two  who  had  been  cruelly  wronged.  He  won 
dered  what  he  could  do  to  redeem  himself  in  their  sight. 
Tenderly  he  now  thought  of  them.  His  sins  looked 
black  when  he  remembered  how  cruel  and  ungrateful 
he  had  been  for  their  tender,  affectionate  love,  generously 
and  freely  lavished  upon  him. 

His  mind  reverted  to  the  time  when  he  had  sought 


THE  DRUNKARD  REDEEMED.  33? 

Marie's  hand  in  marriage;  when  he  had  promised  to  love 
her  better  than  the  wine  cup  if  she  would  consent  to  be 
come  his  wife.  How  illy  he  had  kept  that  promise!  And 
how  sorry  he  was  to-night! 

He  bowed  his  head  in  his  hand  and  reflected,  while  the 
perspiration  came  out  in  great  beads  on  his  forehead. 
Finally  he  said,  as  though  moved  by  a  spirit  of  deep  com 
miseration  for  them:  "Darling!  My  darlings!  How 
cruel  I  have  been!"  He  paused  for  a  moment  and  then 
repeated  it  to  himself.  He  could  not  remember  that  he 
had  ever  called  his  precious  little  son  "darling"  before.  He 
winced  as  the  thought  sent  a  keen  stab  into  his  heart. 
Then  calling  himself  a  brute,  he  resolved  that  the  future 
should  make  amends  for  his  past  indifference  and  neglect 
of  his  child. 

How  wonderfully  the  great  spirit  of  the  man  was  awak 
ing  from  his  lethargy!  How  revolting  the  misdeeds  of 
his  past  now  appeared  to  him!  He  longed  for  the  break 
of  day  when  he  might  look  for  their  arrival  and  make 
amends.  He  could  scarcely  sleep  or  bide  the  time  as  the 
hours  crept  slowly  on  to  day. 

At  last  the  morning  broke,  as  all  mornings  will,  and 
Earnest  Stocklaid,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  a  young 
lover,  arose  and  began  to  prepare  for  the  meeting  with 
his  noble  wife  and  son.  Dressing  himself  with  care,  he 
paced  up  and  down  the  room  in  reverent,  holy  thought 
and  meditated  upon  his  new-found  bliss.  He  even 
counted  the  hours  until  the  arrival  of  the  train.  All  this 
time  new  resolves  were  being  formed  in  his  mind  which 
would  tend  to  make  him  all  that  his  adorable  wife  and 
child  could  ask  or  hope  for. 

He  felt  that  he  had  said  "Good-bye"  to  the  saloon  and 
all  its  accompaniments  forever.  His  face  glowed  with 
a  renewed  hope  and  vigor,  and  he  longed  to  begin  to 


338  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

show  the  world  that  he  was  indeed  a  man  worthy  the 
honor  of  the  name. 

At  last  the  hour  came  and  with  it  the  train  and  dear 
ones.  His  door  was  thrown  open  and  the  glad  faces  of 
his  loved  ones  appeared.  The  unusual  excitement  had 
given  to  Marie's  cheek  the  blush  of  maidenhood,  and 
Earnie's  eyes  sparkled  with  the  gladness  of  childhood. 
The  two  had  never  looked  so  beautiful  before  to  the 
husband  and  father  and  his  heart  gave  a  bound  of  exult 
ant  joy.  That  moment  was  a  supreme  one  to  Earnest 
Stocklaid  and  at  the  same  time  consecrated  to  God. 

Marie  reached  out  her  hands  to  him  she  loved  and  as 
she  looked  into  his  countenance  she  paused  as  though 
beholding  a  Heavenly  vision.  His  face,  which  of  late 
looked  stolid  and  expressionless,  had  now  taken  upon  it 
a  cultured  look  and  beamed  with  a  light  which  never 
comes  to  one's  countenance  except  by  the  light  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  For  a  moment  their  eyes  drank  from  the 
depth  of  new-made  love,  then  Marie  buried  her  face  in 
her  husband's  bosom  and  sobbed  from  the  fullness  of  joy. 
Unconsciously  her  lips  were  pressed  to  his  and  the  sweet 
est  bliss  of  their  married  life  was  experienced  at  that 
moment.  "Darling!  darling  husband!"  she  murmured, 
"I  am  glad  you  are  well  again  and  still  more  glad  to  be 
hold  the  same  old  love  look  upon  your  face  that  was  there 
so  long  ago.  It  is  even  much  more  beautiful.  What  is 
it,  my  husband,  that  has  wrought  such  a  wonderful  change 
and  made  you  lovely  as  you  are?" 

"It  is  Christ,  my  wife;  it  is  a  Savior's  love.  I  am  re 
deemed  by  His  precious  blood!" 

Glad  tears  streamed  down  Mane's  cheeks  like  rain,  and 
amidst  the  showers  she  cried:  "I  am  paid  for  all  my 
suffering." 

Earnie,  too,  was  weeping  for  joy  as  he  was  nestled 


THE  DRUNKARD  REDEEMED.  33i> 

closely  in  his  papa's  bosom,  drinking  in  the  glad  kisses 
of  a  father's  tender  love.  At  last  the  little  fellow  clasped 
his  father's  face  between  both  his  baby  hands  and  ex 
claimed:  "Darlin'  papa,  it's  all  tause  mamma  and  I 
prayed  Dod  to  make  you  a  Tristian." 

Pressing  both  his  wife  and  child  to  his  bosom,  he  said: 
"Beloved,  the  clouds  have  vanished  and  now,  God  being 
my  helper,  I  can  prove  to  you  that  I  can  be  a  husband 
and  father  in  every  true  sense  of  the  word." 

Marie's  face  shone  with  the  joy  which  she 'felt  within 
her  soul,  and  a  sweeter  and  more  perfect  trust  than  she 
had  ever  known  before  for  her  husband  came  into  her 
heart  and  she  was  indeed  blessed  of  Heaven. 

Announcing  to  Mr.  Stocklaid  that  the  train  would 
leave  in  one-half  hour,  arrangements  were  made  for  their 
speedy  departure.  Then  the  family  went  forth  filled  with 
joy.  Every  cloud  seemed  to  have  vanished  from  their 
horizon  of  life,  and  Marie  felt  that  Heaven  had  come  down 
to  meet  her  on  the  way. 

They  had  been  for  some  time  seated  in  the  train  before 
it  dawned  upon  the  mind  of  Earnest  that  they  were  not 
headed  toward  San  Francisco.  When  the  thought  came 
to  him  he  turned  to  his  wife  with  a  look  of  surprise  and 
said:  "Why,  darling,  we  are  going  away  from  instead  of 
to  San  Francisco.  We  have  taken  the  wrong  train." 

"No,  husband,  we  are  not  on  the  wrong  train.  Our 
destination  is  not  San  Francisco.  We  are  going  home." 

Earnest  opened  his  eyes  with  wonderment  and  though 
he  spoke  not  a  word,  yet  his  wife  understood  the  ques 
tioning  look  and  she  smilingly  made  answer:  "We  are 
going  to  Ranch  Earnestine,  which  is  to  be  our  future 
home." 

For  a  moment  a  look  of  gladness  diffused  his  face  and 
he  exclaimed:  "Thank  God,  Marie,  that  I  shall  be  thus 


J540  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

far  removed  from  temptation!"  Then,  as  if  remembering 
that  he  had  a  mightier  power  than  himself  to  rely  upon 
for  support  and  to  strengthen  him,  he  continued:  ''But, 
darling,  it  matters  not  where  my  lines  shall  be  cast. 
Through  Christ,  who  strengthened  me,  I  shall  be  able  to 
resist  any  and  all  temptations  which  may  arise  before  me 
in  the  future." 

Ere  long  the  train  drew  into  the  statior  and  the  trio 
stepped  out  upon  the  platform,  to  be  greeted  by  a  host 
of  people  who  had  come  to  welcome  them  to  their  own 
villa.  Gretchen  was  there  with  the  chief  women,  who 
were  fondly  expressing  their  joy  at  having  one  so  noble 
and  to  them  so  truly  great  as  Mrs.  Stocklaid  come  to 
reside  in  their  midst  with  her  sweet  graces  and  excellent 
character.  A  few,  however,  were  tardy  to  speak  their 
welcome,  because  it  had  been  whispered  about  that  she 
was  a  Catholic.  Some  judged  that  she  would  be  re 
ticent  and  would  be  but  little  help  in  lines  of  Christian 
w^ork.  But  in  this  they  were  to  be  happily  disappointed, 
for,  from  the  day  of  her  arrival  at  Ranch  Earnestine, 
Marie  Stocklaid  began  to  work  in  very  truth  for  the  good 
and  the  betterment  of  the  people  round  about  her  villa. 

Stepping  into  the  carriage  that  stood  in  waiting,  they 
were  driven  at  once  to  their  home,  which  was  situated 
among  the  orchards  that  were  laden  with  choice  and 
luscious  fruit.  When  once  sheltered  beneath  its  roof, 
Marie,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  her  husband,  went  over  the 
house  to  note  the  improvements  and  to  decide  upon  her 
own  private  apartments.  This  was  not  hard  to  do,  for 
one  of  the  most  sunny  rooms  in  the  house  was  chosen. 
Opening  out  of  it  was  a  dear  little  apartment,  a  snuggery 
for  little  Earnest  Earnestine. 

They  now  began  to  feel  at  home,  and  were  looking 
forward  to  the  arrival  on  the  morrow  of  Aunt  Langsford 


THE  DRUNKARD  REDEEMED.  341 

and  Jeanetta.  They  tarried  behind  to  finish  up  the  work 
which  Marie  had  not  had  time  to  look  after  before  her 
departure.  Now  the  wife  and  mother  at  last  sat  down 
to  think  of  her  multiplied  blessings  and  of  God's  wonder 
ful  goodness  to  her — chief  among  them  was  her  husband's 
restoration  to  her,  riot  only  sound  in  mind,  but  thorough 
ly  redeemed  from  drink,  a  noble  Christian  man. 

When  she  thought  what  it  meant  for  her  future  and  the 
future  of  her  child  she  wept  tears  of  joy  and  thanked  God, 
who  was  and  had  been  to  her  a  help  in  all  the  troubles  of 
life.  There  upon  her  knees  she  renewed  her  vows  to 
Him  and  promised  that  her  life  and  means  and  all  that 
she  had  should  be  devoted  to  His  service. 

There  and  then  the  family  altar  was  erected  and  father, 
mother  and  child  bowed  together  and  in  earnest  supplica 
tion  consecrated  their  lives  to  the  service  of  God  and  His 
blessed  work  of  reform  upon  the  earth. 

Ah,  happiness!  How  sweet  thou  art  when  pressed  to  a 
heart  that  hath  known  thee! 

Marie  took  the  new-found  happiness  that  had  now 
been  so  sweetly  poured  into  her  life  and  tenderly  entwin 
ing  it  into  the  experience  of  the  past,  arose  from  her  knees, 
as  a  tree  laden  with  fruit,  to  bless  the  world  in  which  she 
lived. 


'I    WAS    THINKING    OP    WOMAN'S    MISSION    IN    ' 
WORLD    TO    COME.' 


CHAPTER  XX'XV. 

LOOKING  INTO  THE  FUTURE. 

For  some  days  Ruth  Mansfield  had  been  weighing  her 
life's  work  and  considering  the  feasibility  of  continuing 
her  efforts  for  humanity.  She  had  been  asking  herself  if 
it  paid  to  be  a  public  reformer. 

She  was  happy  in  her  calling  and  loved  humanity  bet 
ter  than  she  knew  how  to  love  her  God.  But  just  at  this 
time  she  was  looking  back  over  her  record,  and  in  many 
things  she  had  been  criticising  some  of  her  most  faithful 
endeavors  and  accusing  herself  of  having  failed  to  do  her 
best. 

The  real  truth  of  the  matter  was  she  was  not  quite  sat 
isfied  with  her  life  and  work,  for  she  felt  that  the  time 
was  an  auspicious  one  in  the  world's  history  and  that  the 
opportunities  and  avenues  open  for  women  were  better 
than  the  world  had  ever  before  known,  and  she  did  not 
wish  to  miss  her  good  chance  of  making  the  most  out  of 
her  life  and  ability  to  do  good.  She  had  a  strong  desire 
to  do  something  which  would  be  a  help  to  other  women 
who  were  to  come  after  her,  but  the  kaleidoscopic  view 
that  she  was  now  taking  of  national  affairs  as  she  stood 
with  her  eye  to  the  governmental  lens,  made  her  hesitate 
to  pursue  her  regular  course  and  to  cry  unto  the  Lord 
for  wisdom  to  know  which  way  to  turn  or  where  to  apply 
for  strength. 

Church  and  state  and  moral  reform  had  become  so 
thoroughly  mixed  up  with  national  affairs  that  she  felt 
that  it  would  take  a  sager  counselor  than  Solomon  to  pick 
out  the  tangled  ends  of  public  questions  or  to  separate 


344  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

the  social  and  political  conglomeration.  But  for  all  this 
Ruth  did  not  mean  to  let  go  of  the  work,  and  she  steadily 
pushed  ahead  where  duty  called  her  with  her  aspirations 
set  for  the  highest  public  good. 

She  weighed  all  questions  with  gravity  and  waited  the 
leading  of  the  Spirit  to  guide  her  into  the  light.  The 
Labor  reform  she  could  see,  as  with  prophetic  eye,  would 
in  God's  set  time  work  out  its  own  proper  adjustment; 
and  although  Labor  was  mad  and  the  seething  pot  of 
human  woe  at  boiling  heat,  yet  she  could  see  that  the 
true  leaders  were  men  of  great  moral  integrity  and  that 
the  continual  uprising  on  the  part  of  labor  organizations 
would  be  controlled  and  held  in  obedience  to  the  public 
will. 

She  trusted  that  the  strong,  omnipotent  hand  of  God 
would  steady  the  ship  of  state  and  land  it  safely  by 
and  by. 

Of  late  she  had  some  grave  thoughts  about  the  en 
franchisement  of  women,  and  what  woman's  liberation 
would  mean  for  the  coming  generations.  That  woman 
was  to  have  the  ballot  she  had  not  a  doubt;  for  already 
she  could  see  prejudice  breaking  away  and  men  were 
becoming  the  earnest  champion  of  woman  suffrage. 

She  felt  that  the  ballot  in  the  hand  of  woman  would 
mark  a  great  epoch  in  the  world's  history,  but  she  saw 
that  side  by  side  with  the  greater  privileges  it  would  af 
ford  to  the  women  of  America,  would  stand  the  opportuni 
ty  for  greater  calamities  in  the  direction  of  woman's  de 
generacy  than  the  world  ever  saw  before. 

She  questioned  herself  to  know  if  she  had  any  part 
to  play  on  the  stage  of  life  in  order  that  she  might  reveal 
to  woman  the  weak  point  in  case  she  took  the  ballot  in 
the  centuries  which  were  yet  unwritten. 

The  ballot  in  the  hand  of  man  had  proven  to  be  unto 


LOOKING  INTO  THE  FUTURE.  345 

him  a  snare  and  a  delusion.  Would  woman's  lust  for 
office  and  greed  for  power  be  equal  to  that  of  her  brothers? 

Surely  it  was  a  question  of  great  moment  to  the  moth 
erhood  of  a  nation,  and  the  sooner  the  sequel  to  woman 
in  politics  be  written,  the  easier  it  would  be  to  rectify  the 
wrong,  if  there  should  be  wrong,  and  teach  her  how  to 
steer  clear  of  the  breakers  that  might  sink  her  political 
ship  in  a  sea  of  despair.  Ruth  Mansfield  could  see  a 
great  eminence  for  the  coming  woman  if  she  were  to  live 
and  work  out  God's  plan  of  government  for  the  nations, 
and  to  use  the  ballot  for  the  betterment  of  society  instead 
of,  as  man  had  done,  to  satisfy  his  personal  greed  for 
power. 

She  could  see,  as  it  appeared  to  her,  the  dividing  line 
of  the  centuries  and  believed  that  as  time  rolled  on  and 
the  last  half  of  the  earth's  period  was  being  spread  out 
as  a  scroll  that  woman  was  either  to  rise  in  greater  power 
and  by  her  efforts  purify  the  world  from  vice,  or  else  she 
would  go  down  to  more  awful  depths  of  shame  than  man 
had  ever  done. 

Which  would  it  be?  She  could  not  tell.  But  faith 
in  her  own  sex  made  her  hope  for  the  better  and  she  con 
fidently  believed  that  v/oman's  ballot  would  prepare  the 
way  for  the  righteous  reign  of  the  Kingdom  of  the  Lord. 

As  she  sat  there*  that  day  with  her  spirit  in  the  world 
of  thought,  longing  for  the  wisdom  for  which  she  so 
reverently  prayed,  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  could  see  into 
futurity  and  there  behold  woman  as  she  stood  in  this 
terrestial  sphere  clasping  hands  with  the  angels,  co-operat 
ing  with  God  in  His  great  plan  of  work  for  the  earth. 

Wonderful  futurity !  What  does  it  not  hold  in  store 
for  woman?  But  side  by  side  with  this  vision  of  future 
greatness,  stood  the  opportunity  for  woman  to  fall  into 
greater  darkness  than  she  ever  yet  has  known.  How  could 


346  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

she  warn  her  of  the  danger  ahead,  and  what  arguments 
could  she  use  to  cause  her  to  think  and  inquire  the  way 
before  she  took  a  leap  into  freedom?  What  method  could 
be  adopted  to  promote  her  into  the  divine  purity  and 
God-like  wisdom  that  would  hold  and  maintain  her  at; 
all  times  in  the  right? 

Ruth  Mansfield's  brain  was  a  wise  one,  but  as  she 
looked  out  in  advance  of  the  present  time  she  felt  an  in 
ability  to  answer  her  own  questions  or  to  mark  the  way 
for  others  to  follow. 

She  sat  lost  in  deep  reverie,  with  a  most  intense  ex 
pression  upon  her  face  as  she  climbed  higher  and  higher 
into  her  mysterious  soul  promptings,  when  her  thoughts 
paused  and  made  her  return  to  a  consciousness  of  her 
whereabouts.  She  was  apprised  of  the  fact  that  a  visitor 
had  entered  her  room  and  stood  waiting  for  recognition. 
It  was  her  affianced  husband,  Mr.  Jack  Halstead. 

Arising,  she  gave  him  her  hand  and  he  said:  "What 
grave  problem  is  my  little  philosopher  trying  to  solve  this 
morning?  From  the  expression  of  her  face  I  would  think 
that  it  belonged  to  Greek  and  ancient  lore." 

Ruth  smiled  pleasantly  and  replied:  "Ah,  no;  it  was 
not  relating  to  the  last  half  of  the  earth's  period,  but  of 
the  future  six  thousand  years.  I  was  just  trying  to  see 
what  is  to  be  woman's  mission  to  the  world  in  the  time 
to  come.  Can  you  help  me  to  solve  so  great  a  problem?" 

Leading  her  to  a  settee  and  taking  his  seat  by  her  side, 
he  said:  "Yes,  dear  Ruth,  I  can  help  you  to  solve  the 
problem  of  at  least  one  woman's  mission  in  the  world.  I 
have  come  to  urge  you  to  begin  her  work  at  once." 

Ruth  looked  quickly  up  into  his  face  as  he  continued: 
"Ruth,  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to  name  the  day  when  I 
may  claim  you  for  my  bride." 

As  he  saw  the  expression  of  her  countenance  which 


LOOKING  INTO  THE  FUTURE.  347 

seemed  to  plead  for  him  to  wait,  he  continued:  "Oh, 
don't  ask  me  to  longer  wait.  I  have  waited  now  so  long. 
Won't  you  name  the  day?" 

Ruth  whispered:  "You  may  name  the  day,  Jack,  and 
I  will  try  to  fulfill  that  part  of  my  mission  in  the  world 
of  making  one  man  happy." 

He  said :     "Then  to-morrow  shall  be  our  wedding  day." 

Ruth  was  greatly  surprised  at  the  early  date  he  had  set 
for  the  marriage,  but  having  given  her  permission,  she 
reluctantly  consented  and  began  at  once  to  make  speedy 
preparations  for  the  event.  On  the  following  day  a  little 
company  of  people  were  assembled  in  the  church  of  her 
choice  to  witness  the  nuptial  vows  of  brave,  dauntless 
Ruth  Mansfield  and  that  noble  specimen  of  manhood. 
Jack  Halstead. 

&s  they  knelt  just  inside  the  chancel  rail,  Ruth  could 
hear  the  beating  of  her  own  heart,  and  the  moment  was 
made  sacred  with  fervent  petitions  to  God.  When  the 
minister  prayed  that  the  marriage  vow  might  be  recorded 
in  Heaven  a  fervent  amen  went  up  from  her  heart  and 
she  mentally  petitioned  Heaven  to  bless  the  plighted  troth 
they  were  making. 

When  the  ceremony  was  ended  they  took  their  seats 
in  the  carriage  that  stood  in  waiting  at  the  door.  The 
wedding  party  were  driven  quickly  away  in  the  direction 
of  Nob  Hill,  a  place  where  Ruth  had  seldom  been  since 
that  eventful  morning  so  long  ago  when  she  went  to 
bring  Marie  from  the  mansion  to  a  cottage. 

The  carriage  drew  up  before  a  pretentious-looking 
house  with  beautiful  grounds,  not  so  handsome  and  val 
uable  as  the  Palace  Earnestine  had  been,  but  good  enough 
to  satisfy  the  heart  of  the'  wife  of  Jack  Halstead. 

As  they  entered  a  vision  of  loveliness  met  the  eyes  of 
the  bride  such  as  she  had  seldom  seen.  The  warm,  soft  tints 


34S  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

of  the  walls  and  furniture,  the  beautiful  flowers  making 
the  air  heavy  with  their  fragrance,  the  warbling  of  a  canary 
bird,  and  the  rosy  glow  of  an  open  fire  that  crackled  in 
the  grate,  and  the  strong,  overmastering  love  of  him  who 
had  led  her  into  this  delightful  place,  all  freighted  the 
moment  with  joy,  and  brought  happy  tears  of  gratitude. 
They  glistened  in  her  eyes  like  dewdrops  and  she  ex 
pressed  her  glad  surprise  at  being  ushered  into  this  en 
chanted  spot. 

Her  husband  led  her  to  a  seat  and  tenderly  bent  above 
her  as  he  whispered:  "Welcome  home,  my  darling  wife!" 
Then  kissing  a  pearly  teardrop  from  each  cheek,  he 
slipped  a  paper  into  her  hand,  saying  as  he  did  so:  "This 
is  my  wedding  present  to  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
all  the  world  to  me." 

Ruth  unfolded  the  paper  and  found  it  to  be  a  deed  to 
the  lovely  home  she  had  just  entered,  and  Jack  smiled  and 
said:  "I  am  not  a  rich  man,  dear,  but  in  what  I  have 
you  to-day  have  been  made  an  equal  partner  with  me." 

Home,  sweet  home!  How  precious  that  word  sounds 
to  one  who  has  been  tossed  about  like  a  skiff  upon  the 
mad  billows  of  the  sea!  The  word  had  an  enchanted 
sound  to  the  ear  of  Ruth  Halstead  and  she  repeated  it 
over  and  over  again  to  herself. 

Home!  Surely  there  is  no  place  so  dear  this  side  of 
that  heavenly  mansion.  Anchored  at  last  with  the  strong 
arm  of  a  truly  good  man  about  her!  What  a  mellow 
radiance  his  noble  love  had  thrown  around  her  life !  The 
world  did  not  seem  half  so  stern  and  cold  as  it  had  before, 
and  the  jagged  steel  that  had  so  rasped  her  soul  seemed 
to  have  fled  at  the  approach  of  love.  This  noble  woman 
was  at  last  ready  to  begin  a  tenderer  work  for  humanity 
than  she  could  have  done  before  it  came. 


LOOKING  INTO  THE  FUTURE. 


349 


Ah,  love!  Thou  art  the  balm  that  can  make  any  soul 
truly  great! 

Not  to  have  known  thee  is  to  have  suffered  an  irre 
trievable  loss,  for  the  soul  that  is  void  of  love,  like  the 
dwarfed  tree,  can  not  bear  fruit  to  God  and  live. 


PARK    SPORTS    AT    THE    VILLA. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

WOMAN'S   MINISTRY. 

On  the  following  Sabbath  day,  after  the  arrival  of  the 
party  at  Ranch  Earnestine,  a  company  of  people  could 
hav,e  been  found  assembled  in  the  pleasant  parlors  of 
Mrs.  Stocklaid's  home  for  public  worship. 

Jew  and  Gentile,  Catholic  and  Protestant,  sat  in  holy 
reverence  during  the  hour  in  which  that  blessed  woman 
was  declaring  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ. 

The  old-time  Book  lay  open  before  her  and  none  could 
doubt  that  her  every  utterance  was  inspired  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Creed  was  lost  sight  of,  and  the  one  Law  Giver, 
the  one  Savior,  was  held  up  as  the  father  and  redeemer 
of  all  people. 

What  a  happy  day  this  was  to  the  villagers,  who  hitherto 
had  not  known  what  it  was  to  attend  a  house  of  worship, 
but  now  all  were  inspired  to  better  things  and  to  higher 
and  nobler  aims  in  life. 

This  was  the  first  work  of  real  ministry  of  the  gospel 
that  Mrs.  Stocklaid  had  undertaken,  for  heretofore  her 
efforts  had  been  of  the  nature  of  an  evangelist.  Seeing 
her  duty  plain,  she  had  set  about  the  work  of  the  ministry 
with  a  confidence  which  is  only  known  to  those  who 
make  a  careful  walk  with  God.  From  Sabbath  to  Sab 
bath,  as  the  work  grew  and  her  audience  increased,  the 
spacious  parlors  became  too  small  to  accommodate  the 
people,  and  a  delightful  little  chapel  was  erected  in  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  groves  at  the  villa,  overlooking  the 
sea.  It  became  known  to  all  men  that  the  once  rich  and 
aristocratic  Mrs.  Stocklaid  of  the  city  had  become  one 


352  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

with  her  people  and  was  indeed  a  servant  of  all  as  she 
humbly  labored  in  Christ  for  the  salvation  of  souls. 

From  time  to  time  her  father  confessor  would  come 
and  dispense  the  ceremonies  of  his  faith,  while  on  the  other 
hand  the  Protestant  brethren  were  welcomed  as  they  came 
with  the  glad  messages  of  salvation  to  the  world. 

Blessed  woman!  Surely  the  words  of  the  prophet 
Isaiah  were  fulfilled  where  he  says:  "When  thou  passeth 
through  the  waters  I  will  be  with  thee;  and  through  the 
rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee;  when  thou  walkest 
through  the  fire  thou  shall  not  be  burnt,  neither  shall  the 
flames  kindle  upon  thee.  For  I  am  the  Lord,  thy  God, 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  thy  Savior." 

It  was  a  self-evident  fact  that  Christianity  had  saved 
that  willful  and  stubborn  soul,  and  the  fires  and  flood  had 
so  melted  and  purified  her  heart  that  it  was  indeed  a  sure 
resting-place.  Marie,  in  meditating  upon  her  life  and 
all  its  accompaniments,  recognized  Ruth  as  her  greatest 
spiritual  benefactress — the  good  angel  of  her  life.  But 
unto  God,  the  author  and  finisher  of  her  life,  she  rendered 
her  accounts  and  realized  that  only  through  him  was  she 
blessed.  As  she  sits  to-day  underneath  the  stained-glass 
window  which  throws  a  tinted  glow  ovtr  the  different 
objects  in  the  room,  giving  mellow  radiance,  she  is  made 
to  feel  that  Heaven  is  not  far  distant. 

Looking  down  upon  the  surrounding  grounds  as  beau 
tiful  nature  stretches  out  before  it  makes  her  heart  swell 
with  exultant  joy  and  she  recounts  the  mercies  of  God  to 
herself  and  adored  husband. 

The  flowers  that  were  blooming  in  luxuriant  profusion 
seemed  to  speak  of  triumph  in  God,  and  the  air,  heavy 
with  the  fragrance  of  orange  blossoms,  seemed  but  the 
essence  of  life.  She  could  see  the  trees  laden  with  grow- 
ing  fruit  and  the  table-grape  vineyard  busily  unfolding 


WOMAN'S  MINISTRY.  353 

beneath  the  warm  rays  of  the  beautiful  sun.  She  could 
see  the  bottles  of  unfermented  wine,  and  to  her  they 
seemed  more  delicious  than  the  fermented  juice  of  the 
grape.  Further  on  she  saw  the  broad  fields  of  waving 
grain,  and  they  gave  great  promise  of  a  bountiful  harvest. 
Thousands  upon  thousands  of  acres  stretched  out  before 
her.  Away  to  the  east  the  mirage  appeared  to  her  en 
tranced  vision  like  a  quiet  lake  of  water,  while  yet  beyond 
the  whole  range  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains  were 
in  full  view,  clothed  in  winter  and  summer  dress  of  ice 
and  snow. 

Coming  back  she  looked  down  upon  her  own  beautiful 
Ranch  Earnestine.  Just  there  in  the  meadow  the  cows 
were  grazing  with  that  peaceful  tranquillity  which  knows 
no  thought  but  security  and  rest.  A  meadow  lark  came 
and  lifted  its  beak  heavenward  and  sang  a  song  of  joy, 
while  the  young  hopped  timidly  about,  trying  their  new 
born  strength. 

The  laborers  were  tilling  the  soil  and  displaying  won 
derful  skill  as  they  rode  the  wheel  plow,  guiding  a  six- 
horse  team  to  turn  an  even  furrow.  Back  of  it  all  lay  the 
grand  old  ocean,  with  its  wild,  turbulent  waves  beating 
in  angry  tumult  upon  the  shore  as  if  to  show  disdain  for 
the  peaceful  repose  that  lay  like  a  dream  over  all  nature. 
Over  and  above  it  all  hung  the  clear  blue  sky  of  Heaven's 
vaulted  dome  like  a  circlet  of  love  shining  alike  upon  the 
just  and  upon  the  unjust  of  earth. 

The  husband  was  now  driving  down  the  avenue  be 
tween  the  even  rows  of  shade  trees,  getting  home  in  time 
for  the  noonday  lunch.  As  the  bell  rang  Marie  arose  and 
went  down  to  the  dining-room  to  meet  her  husband  and 
talk  of  her  pleasant  morning  in  the  secret  presence  of  her 
God. 

The  white  ribbon  knot  is  tied  in  her  dress.     There  can 


354  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

also  be  seen  a  dainty  little  bow  in  the  buttonhole  of  her 
husband's  coat.  Her  boy,  grown  taller  and  more  lovely 
now,  at  his  mother's  instigation  bows  his  head  and  says 
grace  before  the  meal,  which  is  partaken  of  by  a  pleasant 
company  of  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

Such  is  the  life  of  the  once  petted  and  spoiled  heiress  of 
the  Earnestine  estate,  who  is  converted  from  the  evil  of 
her  ways  to  a  life  of  righteousness. 

As  the  little  company  lingered  around  the  board  the 
theme  of  their  conversation  is  the  living  issues  of  the 
day  and  the  wonderful  advancement  of  the  temperance 
reform. 

Earnest  Stocklaid  is  in  favor  of  the  prohibition  of  the 
liquor  traffic  and  entreats  his  comrades  to  vote  on  the 
side  of  right.  He  is  now  working  for  the  protection  of 
the  home. 

"How  mysterious  are  the  ways  of  the  Lord,  and  His 
judgments  past  finding  out!"  God  led  the  children  of 
Israel  out  of  bondage  into  the  light  of  security  and  peace, 
and  so  will  He  lead  on  the  temperance  reform  and  settle 
the  Labor  question;  and  ere  long  the  bell  of  the  centuries 
will  ring  out  the  glad  news  that  the  saloon  has  departed. 


MRS.   STOCKLAID    AT    THE    AGE    OP    FORTY. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

WAITING  ON  THE  WATCH  TOWER. 

It  is  the  last  night  of  the  old  year  and  for  friendship's 
sake  a  reunion  is  being  held  at  the  beautiful  residence  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Halstead.  It  is  a  pleasant  company  which 
is  gathered  around  the  fireside.  Every  one  seems  to  be 
in  his  happiest  mood.  Earnest  and  Mrs.  Stocklaid  are 
present. 

The  central  figure  of  the  group  is  Ruth,  with  baby 
Viola  upon  her  knee.  The  brown  curls  and  Heavenly 
blue  yes  are  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  father,  who 
watches  the  mother  and  child  with  that  perfect  adoration 
born  only  of  true  love. 

Ruth  is  talking  to  her  guests  and  seems  like  a  woman 
who  lives  far  in  advance  of  the  age. 

A  careful  review  of  her  life's  work  is  being  made  to  her 
auditors  in  order  that  she  may  more  clearly  show  them 
the  wonderful  age  of  progression  in  which  they  were  liv 
ing.  Speaking  of  the  errors  of  humanity  and  the  mis 
takes  of  society,  she  pointed  to  the  never-failing  hand  of 
God,  who  from  first  to  last  has  led  His  people  forward  in 
the  battles  of  life.  She  then  speaks  of  the  future.  Her 
words  sound  very  prophetic  when  she  says:  "But  the 
end  is  not  yet,  for  many  trials  are  to  come  to  America 
ere  the  dove  of  peace  will  again  settle  down  upon  our 
waters.  The  labor  question  is  like  the  smothered  flames 
of  Mount  Vesuvius — ready  to  burst  forth  at  any  moment 
— and  many  decades  will  come  and  go  before  the  labor 
question  will  be  settled  with  Capital.  Blood  must  flow 
and  great  devastation  will  come  upon  the  land  before 


S.'S  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

monopolists  will  accede  to  the  principles  and  demands 
of  the  people.  Terrible  quaking  will  be  felt  in  society, 
for  it  yet  must  be  greatly  moved  for  Labor's  sake.  Never 
until  the  working  people  shall  become  educated  into  true 
American  ideas  will  the  hot  spirit  of  anarchy  die  out  and 
a  higher  civilization  appear.  The  rum  power  will  call  for 
greater  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  temperance  people 
and  many  reformers  will  fall  by  the  assassin's  hand  ere 
the  time  shall  come  when  the  government  will  abolish 
the  accursed  traffic.  But  the  saloon  must  go;  for  just 
beyond  this  period  into  nineteen  hundred  we  see  women, 
grand,  strong  and  unconquerable,  standing  like  inter 
ceding  angels  of  mercy,  casting  the  white-winged  ballots 
in  defense  of  God,  our  country  and  the  home.  America 
is  a  nation  that  was  born  to  live,  and  thouglr  women  must 
leave  their  homes  and  come  out  before  the  world  in  behalf 
of  work,  the  end  shall  yet  be  accomplished." 

Marie  is  seen  to  arise  and  come  close  to  the  side  of 
Ruth.  An  eager  glow  beams  from  her  eye,  and  she  says: 
"Mrs.  Halstead,  your  words  seem  as  truly  prophetic  as 
those  of  the  wise  men  of  old,  and  I  rejoice  in  the  day  that 
you  and  I  live  and  am  glad  that  we  have  had  a  little  part 
in  this  work  that  is  given  woman  to  do.  To  live  in  this 
present  age  and  see  the  nation  revolutionized  and  the 
drink  traffic  cast  aside,  to  see  woman  rising  up  to  suppress 
secret  vices  and  to  make  better  laws  for  the  protection  of 
wTomen  and  children,  and  to  feel  that  we  have  invested 
our  lives  in  these  great  moral  issues,  gives  the  holiest 
joy  to  me  that  can  be  experienced  by  any  on  earth.  But, 
dear  Ruth,  who  shall  be  able  to  abide  the  trials  of  which 
you  prophesy?  Will  the  women  of  to-day  survive  the 
coming  revolutionary  struggles?" 

Ruth  smiled  as  though  her  soul  were  on  fire  to  stand 
in  the  fiercest  of  the  battle  as  she  replied:  "You  and  I, 


WAITING  ON  THE  WATCH  TOWER.  359 

Marie,  will  continue  to  fight  and  shall  win  some  victories 
while  we  yet  live,  but  we  shall  grow  old  and  our  weary 
bodies  will  be  laid  to  rest  in  the  grave  long  years  before 
this  warfare  is  ended.  But,  my  sister,  our  work  will  not 
cease  here,  for  just  beyond  this  vale  of  earth  into  the  other 
world  the  struggle  will  be  going  on  still  and  we  shall  labor 
there. 

"When  Jesus  was  about  to  be  led  away  to  the  cruci 
fixion,  did  He  not  say:  Think  thou  that  I  can  not  pray 
to  my  Father  and  He  shall  presently  give  me  more  than 
twelve  legions  of  angels?'  And  to-day,  after  more  than 
eighteen  hundred  years  have  passed,  think  you  not  that 
He  could  send  twelve  times  twelve  legions  of  angels  to 
fight  in  this  righteous  battle,  the  right  against  the  wrong? 
Yes,  Marie,  you  and  I  will  continue  our  work." 

Marie's  face  wore  a  look  of  reverence  as  she  listened. 
Her  son  came  and  rested  his  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of 
his  mother,  his  beautiful  face  glowing  with  light  and  his 
soul  seemed  to  be  carried  away  with  enthusiasm  as  he 
drank  from  the  subject  under  discussion.  Presently  the 
conversation  changed.  This  same  noble  specimen  of 
boyhood  caressed  his  mother's  brow  and  smoothed  her 
beautiful  hair,  which  was  silvered  now,  and  said:  "My 
beautiful  mother,  and  noble  Aunt  Ruth,  I  have  been  listen 
ing  to  your  conversation  just  now  and  want  to  say  to  you 
that  I  shall  be  a  man  by  and  by,  then  may  I  not  begin 
where  you  leave  off  to  help  God  and  the  angels  fight  the 
rum  fiend?" 

Marie  caught  him  to  her  bosom  and  answered:  "God 
bless  you,  my  noble  son!  May  He  make  you  a  mighty 
general  to  lead  the  temperance  armies  on  to  victory!" 

Ruth  smiled  and  pressed  baby  Viola  to  her  breast,  say- 
Ing  as  she  did  so :  "Yes,  thank  God  for  the  plan  of  work 
given  us  by  the  prophet  Joel  where  he  says:  Tell  ye 


360  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

your  children  of  it,  ana  let  your  children  tell  their  children, 
and  their  children  another  generation.'  We  will  do  our 
work  well,  Marie,  and  then  let  our  mantle  fall  upon  our 
children  while  we  go  on  to  swell  the  army  of  the  legions 
of  angels'  that  God  has  sent  out  to  minister  to  those  of 
earth." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  sharp  ring  at  the  door  bell 
and  Jack  Halstead  answered  the  imperative  summons  in 
person.  An  accident  had  occurred  on  the  street  and 
help  was  needed. 

They  went  out  and  found  on  the  ground  a  drunken 
man  who  had  fallen  from  his  carriage  and  was  apparently 
dead.  Mrs.  Halstead  hastened  to  bring  the  restoratives 
that  had  been  called  for,  while  the  guests  of  the  house 
stepped  out  upon  the  piazza  to  view  the  state  of  the  un 
happy  man.  Immediately  an  exclamation  or  horror  burst 
from  Marie's  lips.  It  was  Harry  Rumsford  come  to  his 
death  in  a  state  of  intoxication.  The  words  came  back 
to  her  that  she  had  spoken  in  derision  of  Ruth  so  many 
years  before:  "The  Earnestines  have  drunk  wine  too 
many  centuries  to  be  frightened  out  of  their  beverage 
by  such  foolish  temperance  babble." 

How  glad  she  was  at  that  moment  that  she  was  ar 
rayed  with  the  right  on  the  side  of  temperance  and  that 
remorse  for  her  words  of  the  past  could  not  trouble  her 
now. 

The  body  was  lifted  from  the  pavement  and  carried 
away,  while  the  company  once  more  came  back  to  the 
brightness  of  the  drawing-room,  feeling  that  a  lost  soul 
had  gone  out  to  meet  its  God. 

Aunt  Langsford,  now  aged  and  infirm,  came  and  stood 
by  her  niece  and  said:  "Marie,  is  there  aught  of  respon 
sibility  resting  upon  us  concerning  the  burial  of  Harry 
Rumsford?" 


WAITING  ON  THE  WATCH  TOWER.  361 

Marie,  who  had  been  turning  the  question  over  in  her 
own  mind,  made  answer:  "Not  for  love's  sake,  Aunt 
Ernile,  but  for  humanity's  sake  I  will  see  that  the  body 
of  the  wretched  man  is  decently  interred.  He  was  the 
son  of  my  father's  sister,  and  the  Earnestine  blood  was 
in  his  veins,  and  it  was  the  Earnestine  beverage  and  the 
Earnestine  gold  that  made  him  what  he  was.  Another 
example  of  a  good  citizen  sacrificed  to  society  and  a  soul 
lost  because  of  moderate  drinking.  Had  my  unfortunate 
cousin  imbibed  the  spirit  of  temperance  and  been  obliged 
to  make  his  own  way  in  the  world,  the  world  might  have 
been  better  for  his  having  lived  in  it.  As  it  now  is,  'No 
drunkard  can  inherit  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,'  and  his 
soul,  gone  out  into  eternity,  must  abide  in  darkness." 

On  the  following  morning  two  deaths  were  chronicled 
in  the  San  Francisco  papers.  The  first  said:  "Another 
siren  dead.  At  the  city  prison  last  night  Rose  Sommers, 
an  abandoned  and  dissolute  woman,  died.  The  case  was 
picked  up  yesterday  by  Officer  McHennesy  and  charged 
with  vagrancy.  A  few  minutes  after  her  arrival  in  prison 
she  was  taken  ill  and  died  in  horrible  convulsions." 

The  next  was  a  whole  column  and  a  half  devoted  to  the 
Hon.  Harry  Rumsford,  who  had  fallen  from  his  carriage 
with  heart  failure.  His  excellent  character  was  eulogized, 
his  many  virtues  praised.  His  funeral  services  were  to 
be  arranged  by  a  certain  secret  order  that  was  to  bury 
him  with  much  pomp  and  display. 

Marie  Stocklaid's  lip  curled  with  disdain  at  the  expres 
sion  of  the  public  press.  She  knew  what  a  dark  record 
the  man  had  made.  Reading  down  the  column  she  found : 
"Polly  Hopkins  again  in  court.  Stood  before  Judge  Rix 
and  plead  her  own  case." 

"Judge,  I  plead  guilty,  but  I  pray  your  honor,  don't 


362  RUTH  AND  MARIE. 

sentence  me  this  time,  for  I  have  not  spent  a  holiday  sea 
son  out  of  prison  for  seven  years." 

For  once  it  was  recorded  that  a  judge  was  merciful  and 
Polly  was  free  to  get  drunk  on  New  Year's  day.  Ah, 
poor  slaves  to  the  accursed  cup !  When  shall  thy  freedom 
be  declared  and  the  land  rid  of  its  blighting  curse? 

Turning  to  the  political  side  of  the  paper,  Marie's  eyes 
were  electrified  by  a  great  flaming  heading  to  an  editorial ; 
"The  Two  Grand  Old  Parties  Dead !  The  Prohibitionists 
and  Populists  united  in  the  two  leading  issues  of  the  day 
— Temperance  and  Labor."  With  a  grand  shout,  Marie 
started  to  go  in  quest  of  Ruth  that  they  might  help  ring 
the  wedding  bells  announcing  victory  to  the  world. 

She  was  met  on  the  threshold  by  Mrs.  Halstead,  who 
had  come  to  invite  her  to  the  drawing-room  to  join  a 
happy  company  that  were  assembled  there. 

Advancing  into  the  drawing-room  her  face  was  electri 
fied  with  happiness.  Two  young  people,  a  man  and 
woman,  were  ushered  into  their  presence  and  took  their 
positions  before  the  minister  of  the  gospel.  This  was 
surely  a  wedding.  It  was  Jeanetta,  the  faithful  maid,  and 
Dan,  the  coachman.  They  had  served  Marie  long  and 
well  and  were  now  in  the  employ  of  the  new  mistress  of 
the  old  Palace  Earnestine.  A  very  appropriate  and  well- 
timed  marriage  it  seemed.  These  two  young  people  had 
grown  into  Mrs.  Stocklaid's  heart  and  her  cherished  works 
of  reform.  After  the  ceremony  was  performed  Marie 
broke  the  news  of  the  union  of  Temperance  and  Labor, 
and  a  glad  hallelujah  went  up  from  all  present.  The  an 
nouncement  was  to  them  as  of  an  evangelist  come  to  de 
clare  the  death  of  the  liquor  traffic,  "For  the  saloon  must 
go!" 

A  perfect  and  beautiful  description  of  the  orderly  way 


WAITING  ON  THE  WATCH  TOWER.  363 

in  which  the  election  had  carried  was  given  in  the  San 
Francisco  papers  and  woman  was  highly  eulogized  for 
the  part  she  had  taken  in  this  grand  political  drama.  It 
said  she  had  indeed  proven  by  the  power  of  her  ballot  that 
it  was  not  the  party  /or  which  she  labored,  but  for  men 
worthy  ta  hold  the  highest  positions  in  office  attained  by 
the  gifts  of  the  people.  With  this  mixture  of  the  bitter 
with  the  sweet,  we  ask  you  to  stand  upon  the  watch-tower 
now  and  after  nineteen  hundred  to  behold  the  world  revo 
lutionized  and  the  nation  free  from  the  curse  of  rum.  Thus 
we  will  leave  you  with  brave,  dauntless  Ruth  Halstead 
to  continue  your  labor  of  love  for  humanity,  while  she, 
with  the  assistance  of  her  excellent  husband,  will  train 
baby  Viola  to  take  her  place  in  life's  battle  when  she  at 
last  shall  be  called  to  that  better  and  higher  world.  We 
will  follow  Marie  Stocklaid  back  to  her  villa,  where  she, 
too,  will  continue  to  love  and  labor  in  the  cause  of  right. 
There  we  will  watch  her  as  she  lingers  around  the  chair 
of  Aunt  Langsford,  making  her  last  days  her  brightest 
and  best  upon  the  earth.  There,  with  approving  smile, 
we  will  look  upon  her  daily  devotion  to  her  beautiful  son, 
who  is  some  day  to  develop  into  a  master  reformer.  There, 
we  shall  hear  the  words  of  encouragement  from  her  de 
voted  husband,  who  is  redeemed  from  the  curse  of  rum. 

As  we  linger  there  we  shall  be  waiting  and  watching 
with  the  angels  and  the  people  of  earth  to  welcome  the 
glad  message  that  America,  the  noblest  and  best,  is  free 
from  the  chains  of  monopoly  and  rum  and  has  entered 
into  that  peace  that  will  flow  tranquilly  on  forever. 


MATERNITY 

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